A Baby Unicorn
by Polouchi
Summary: ~Finished~ A little girl is born of two mothers. Her childhood is one that could cause much therapy in later life - this is the tale of it. Rated for profanity in more than one language and implied rape. Oh, and death.
1. Disgust

Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah. I don't own anything here, apart from Siannagh and Salla, of course. Fun, this fanfic stuff, isn't it?  
  
   
  
Imagine a dark cellar, tiny, cramped and low-roofed. Imagine the only light source being a small barred window a metre from the ground. Imagine a young girl, no older than seventeen or eighteen at the most, sat on a bundle of blankets shaped into a bed in the corner with a tattered brown bear on the 'pillow'. Imagine a one-year-old child, presumably female, in the girl's arms.   
  
Charles Xavier didn't have to imagine this, for he was seeing it all right in front of him. Ororo, stood behind him, looked around in disgust. The stench of months, maybe years of neglect filled her senses and it was all she could do to steady her stomach.  
  
"Don't be scared," comforted Xavier. "We are friends."  
  
"You are not," hissed the half-naked girl. She glanced down and pulled a blanket up to t hide her nudity as well as to protect the little girl. "Get out."  
  
"We've come to help."  
  
"You're not really here."  
  
"What is your child's name?" Ororo asked. IT was a sensible question. They didn't yet know anything much about either of them.  
  
"Salla," replied the girl. "I am Siannagh."  
  
"I am Ororo," smiled the woman who was otherwise known as Storm. "This is Charles Xavier."  
  
"How long have you been here, Siannagh?" asked Xavier.   
  
"Just over a year and a half," she said. She ran her fingers through the matted curls of Salla's hair impulsively. "Before Salla was born. I was bad, I didn't mean to kill the goldfish, but the water kept giving me pretty pictures to look at when I concentrated. Then my mother realised what I was… She knew Salla was going to be born soon and knew I would give her my disease so she kept me down here for safety. I did pass it on."  
  
She pulled the blanket down slightly. On Salla's gaunt, terrified face, two jet black lines ran across the curve of her potential cheek-bones. A tiny silver horn protruded from between her eyebrows. Both Xavier and Ororo nodded as their suspicions were confirmed. These were the two mutants they had be looking for.  
  
"How have you eaten?"  
  
"Mother brings us down some food sometimes," she said. She paused and coughed delicately, covering her mouth with her fist. She was obviously slightly unwell, and no surprise from the conditions she was living in. "She wouldn't look at us or speak to us, though, no matter how hard I pleaded. She hasn't been down for a while now…Siannagh is hungry."  
  
"Your mother left town," Xavier said, his voice full of regret for the poor girls. "We can help you, I promise. It is a wonder you beared this for so long, Siannagh and Salla. You are truly brave."  
  
"Kurt is waiting outside," Ororo said. "Can you call him? We need to get these two into a kitchen and a bathroom, preferably ours."  
  
//Kurt.//  
  
//Ja, Professor?// came the instant telepathic reply as Charles sent the signal. //Need my help?//  
  
//Come here.//  
  
BAMF. The crouching blue elf appeared behind Charles and Ororo, his yellow eyes glinting in the darkness. There was enough light to see him, however, streaming through the window but even that was dulled by the amount of dust.  
  
The affect was instantaneous. Siannagh lept up, the dropping blankets taking away the last of her dignity. She huddled her daughter to her chest, fear filling her eyes. She pulled out a hand from the tangled grip and pointed a finger accusingly at Kurt. A piercing scream echoed from her mouth and the baby began to wail.  
  
Kurt looked shocked and turned away, hurt in his eyes. Charles lowered his gaze to avoid hurting the scarp of pride that could have remained in Siannagh's opened soul. Ororo glared at them and rushed forward, placing a comforting arm around Siannagh.  
  
"Siannagh!" whispered Ororo in her softest voice. "Don't panic. Kurt! Turn on your watch."  
  
He did as he was told, trying not to be offended by the now dying scream. He knew nothing of this girl. Perhaps she was religious… His appearance had the 'demon' affect on quite a few people of that kind. Besides, he had appeared out of nowhere in front of two young strangers with his holowatch turned off.  
  
//Don't take it to heart, Kurt,// Xavier mentally said. //It's not her fault.//  
  
//I know, I am alright.//  
  
When Xavier and Kurt dared to look back they saw Siannagh and Salla wrapped in a blanket, tightly embraced by concerned looking Storm.   
  
"Siannagh, will you come with us?" asked Xavier. The frightened girl was still shaking. "We want to help you and your daughter."  
  
//She is too young for a child,// Xavier sent to Kurt and Ororo. //I'm not sure I even want to know who the father is.//  
  
//The poor girl,// responded Kurt.   
  
//A whole year and a half locked away as an animal!// Ororo said. Her voice sounded angry, even in Charles' mind. //We have to ger her back, now.//  
  
//Kurt, are we close enough?//  
  
//Just under a mile from the institute,// Kurt said. //Ja, we are.//  
  
"Why have you gone silent?" asked Siannagh, suspicion welling up in her eyes behind the witheld tears. "What are you doing?"  
  
Kurt approached them in his now human form. Ororo shushed them reassuringly as he held on gently to the mother and daughter. Ororo let go of them and stood back a bit.  
  
"I'll be back in a minute," grinned Kurt. "Hold on tight!"  
  
As a last minute thought, he reached fown and retrieved the teddy from the bed. It looked well-loved or a least well hugged, with it's left eye gone and patches faded from it's oak-brown fur. Then, they were gone with a bamf and an elegant puff of brimstone, if brimstone can be elegant.  
  
Moments later, Kurt returned empty handed and repeated the process for Xavier and Ororo. 


	2. Will you stay?

Disclaimer: I don't own the Xmen, mores the pity. I do however own Siannagh and Salla, so hands off! Lol.

Scott looked up through his heavily tinted glasses as Kurt appeared with a loud bamf. His eyebrows shot up as he realised a girl wrapped in a blanket had materialised with the blue-haired boy. His jaw nearly hit the floor as the bundle of large rags the girl was holding began to screech in fear. 

"This is Siannagh," Kurt said quickly. "Her baby is Salla. Look after her for a moment, will you? Get her some food."

With that, he teleported away. Scott frowned in confusion.

"Where am I?" Siannagh asked as she comforted her child. She peered around the strange, brightly lit kitchen she had arrived in and blinked a couple of times to adjust. Her glare fixed on Scott, who was in his full uniform, visor and all. "Who are you?"

"I'm Scott Summers madam," he said, reaching out his hand for her to shake. She didn't, but pulled the blanket closer around her and the baby. "You're at the Xavier Institute. Are you hungry?"

She nodded reluctantly. "Do you have baby food?"

"I don't think we have, but I could get some, I suppose…?" Scott said. The little girl had stopped screeching now and the air was still around him. "Or I could mush up some fruit."

Siannagh just nodded and took a seat by the empty table. As Scott reached to the fridge to fetch some food, Kurt appeared, hands latched on to Xavier and Ororo. 

"Hallo again," Kurt grinned. "Feeding the mother and child yet?"

"Nearly," replied Scott. "Where are they from?"

"Just downtown," sighed Ororo, making preparations for a sandwich for Siannagh as Scott proceeded to mash up a banana or two. "Siannagh, who was your baby's father?"

Siannagh lowered her gaze. Her pale cheeks reddened. Kurt saw for the first time that she was in fact quite pretty under the dirt that marred her body, with wide eyes and, strangely, slightly pointed ears. Her red hair was long but tangled and unkempt; her nose was almost unnoticeably crooked and freckles sprinkled randomly around her cheeks. 

"I don't know," she admitted. "It's not like it sounds, though…I couldn't see him to know his name."

There was a stunned silence. Only Scott didn't react as he had turned the blender on and was too drowned in the sound to hear. Xavier looked increasingly disturbed that anything like this could happen less than a mile from here. They had fought numerous enemies and sometimes friends, seen things no human would believe, yet this sickened him more than most.

"I'm sorry," Ororo said. She dropped the plate of cheese sandwiches on the table and embraced Siannagh. Siannagh looked vaguely embarrassed. "Would you like to stay here? No one has asked you yet."

"I don't know," she replied. Xavier approached her. She looked embarrassed. "I wouldn't want to put you to trouble, or anything."

"Have you got anywhere else to go?"

She shook her head dejectedly. Scott placed the mangled bananas in front of Salla. Siannagh picked up the spoon and began to feed her carefully.

"Then please, stay with us. We can help." 


	3. Better in the Light

Disclaimer: Not mine, apart from Siannagh and Salla.  
  
------o(O)o------  
  
The next morning, a grinning girl emerged from the bathroom dressed in some of Jean's spare clothes because she was closest to that size. The pale lavender coloured top was slightly baggy on her, as were the beige combat trousers. As she walked back into the kitchen where only Kurt was sat, she looked slightly worried.   
  
"Where's my baby?"  
  
"Sorry Frauline," Kurt started, about to ask who she was. He stopped. His mouth dropped open. It was Siannagh! Her red hair was a good two shades lighter and her skin was as pale as paper. The freckles stood out a lot more than was first apparent. After the initial shock, Kurt smiled and answered her question. "Ororo is looking after her. She took her from your room this morning when you went for a bath. Giving her a wash, I think. If you wait here, they will be down soon."  
  
Siannagh nodded and resumed the seat she had sat in before, opposite Kurt. He still had his holowatch turned on.  
  
"Why did you look different before?" she asked after an obviously strained silence. "You were blue. Why?"  
  
"It's my mutation," he said, eyes downcast. "I look like that when my watch is turned off. I can also teleport, which is how I got you here. I'm sorry if I scared you."  
  
"I was just shocked," she said. "I'm sorry. You can turn your watch off now if you like."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
She nodded. Kurt took a deep breath and stood up. He turned his back to her and with a slight flicker, the real blue Kurt was revealed. He turned around. His tail twitched in anticipation.  
  
"You look better in the light," she grinned. It lit up her entire face. "I don't mean to sound rude, but why do you look like that?"  
  
"My mother is blue too," he shrugged. "Bad luck."  
  
Siannagh spoke after a moment of silent tension passed by silently, if you would believe it. You'd never think silence would pass silently. "What is for breakfast? I'm starving."  
  
"Another one who always thinks of her stomach, then?" chuckled Kurt. "You'll be right at home."  
  
"I have been locked in a basement for way over a year, I think I have the right to be a little bit hungry."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"I was joking," she laughed. "No point in dwelling on the past now, is there?"  
  
"I suppose not," he said. Of course, Kurt was a big fan of dwelling. It was a good cure for happiness. "I take it you are staying?"  
  
"I think so."  
  
At that moment, Ororo strolled in with Salla struggling in her arms. "Your little child is quite a beauty when she's clean," she smiled.  
  
"Thank you," the proud mother said. "I would say she takes after her father but unfortunately, no one can confirm that."  
  
"Why?" Kurt asked. "What happened?"  
  
"It doesn't matter," she said quickly. She stood up and brushed past Ororo to reach into the cupboards, where she found herself some insanely sweet cereal, filled a bright green bowl with it and poured some milk over it. "Where are the spoons?"  
  
"In that drawer," Kurt said, pointing to the left of her. She nodded her thanks and found the largest spoon in there before shovelling down the contents of the very full bowl.  
  
"You and Kurt should get on well," Ororo laughed. When the famished girl had downed the last drop of milk, she handed her the child. "Here you are. Back to Siannagh."  
  
"Thank you for looking after her," she smiled. "You're very kind."  
  
"Are you too old for school?" Kurt asked.   
  
"What is the date?"   
  
"Fifth of June," Ororo confirmed by glancing at her digital watch she had bought the day before purely for the sake of buying something. "Why?"  
  
"My birthday was in August," she laughed. "I had no idea it was that late. Yes, in that case I am too old for school."  
  
"Then I'll see you later," grinned Kurt as he headed towards the exit. "Auf Wiedersehen!" 


	4. Aqua

Disclaimer: Not mine, apart from Siannagh and Salla.  
  
------o(O)o------  
  
Ororo watched Siannagh care for her child with deep interest. She had taken a liking to the poor girl who had suffered so much in the short time. She seemed bubbly and funny, strangely carefree for what she had been through. Her daughter was a quiet thing; she hadn't uttered a sound since the wailing the night before. Storm watched Siannagh wander half-aimlessly around the building and grounds, pausing momentarily at the gate to look at the world outside as if in longing. Eventually, Siannagh felt ready to see the other mutants she had not met yet. Ororo led her into the front room where Professor Xavier was sat with Hank McCoy, otherwise known as the Beast. Across the room from them, Logan sat glaring with sinister eyes at the newspaper in front of him. At first, Siannagh didn't notice him.  
  
"Hello, you must be Siannagh," Beast pointed out. He stood up and lumbered across the room. Siannagh didn't bat an eyelid. She had steeled herself for such things the moment she saw Kurt. Beast held out his claw and carefully, she shook it. His grip was surprisingly gentle, full of care and friendliness. As Siannagh looked into his darkened eyes, she saw a spark of intelligence a lot brighter than one would expect. Clearly here, appearances weren't everything. "I trust you are well?"  
  
"Very," she smiled. She noticed Xavier watching her. "Good afternoon, Professor."  
  
"Good afternoon Siannagh," he smiled. "Are you finding your stay here comfortable?"  
  
"You forget that I have not had a proper bed for a long time, anything is more comfortable than what I am used to."  
  
"Please, take a seat."  
  
She sat next to Ororo and placed Salla carefully beside her. Still she did not notice Logan, smiling to himself at a pathetic anti-mutant article. Ororo immersed herself in an old looking book with a tattered grey cover. Salla began to whimper quietly at the sight of Beast, but with a gentle word from her mother she settled quickly.  
  
"So what can you do?" asked Beast. "I mean, what is your mutant power?"  
  
"I'm not sure," she admitted. "I think it has something to do with liquids."  
  
"Here," Xavier said, holding out a glass of water. Beast took it and handed it to Siannagh. "Show us."  
  
Somewhat hesitantly, Siannagh placed her hand over the top of the glass. The water inside began to bubble, not as though it was boiling but as if someone was blowing air into it through a thin straw. After a few seconds, she shifted her hand into a new position and delicate patterns became visable, twisting and turning in the container. Siannagh's eyes glazed over a little bit as if the swirling patterns were talking directly to her. After another moment, she withdrew her hand and the water returned to normal. Beast took the glass back and had a sip. It tasted completely ordinary.  
  
"Amazing," Xavier said. "Do you have a mutant name?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"A lot of my students and teachers use 'code names', more commonly known as mutant names," he began to explain. "Hank McCoy, here, is otherwise known as Beast. Ororo is Storm, on account of her being able to control the weather. Logan over there is called Wolverine. He has claws and healing powers."  
  
For the first time, Siannagh noticed the man who was sat away from them. In his leather jacket he looked menacing and foreboding, the points of his hair increasing the effect. Siannagh's entire body stiffened visably and Xavier mistakenly put it down to nerves, a common symptom in the first meeting of Logan.   
  
"Aqua," Wolverine growled without looking up from the newspaper. Everyone's attentions focused on him.  
  
"What do you mean, Logan?" Ororo enquired. "What do you mean, 'Aqua'?"  
  
"Her name," he said. "Aqua. Isn't that right, Siannagh?"  
  
Without a word, Siannagh nodded and walked swiftly out of the room, so determined on leaving the room as fast as possible that she did not stop to pick up Salla.  
  
"Right then," Logan said. "That was strange." 


	5. Rape?

Disclaimer: Not mine, apart from Siannagh and Salla.  
  
------o(O)o------  
  
"Logan."  
  
"Professor."  
  
"Do you have any idea why Aqua reacted so badly towards you?" Xavier asked. Storm had left the room, taking Salla with her. Beast had wandered away, sensing the fact the Xavier and Logan needed to talk. The room was still, and for a moment the only sound came from the delicate twittering of unidentified birds outside, their shrill songs drifting through the open window. Eventually, Logan shook his head. "Have you met her before?"  
  
"Only once," he said. "About three years ago. I saw her in a bar making patterns on a beer spill. I warned her against it, and she left."  
  
"Is that all?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I believe we have a problem then, Logan."   
  
-------o(O)o-------  
  
"Come in."  
  
Siannagh watched her new bedroom door open as Ororo walked in, Salla in her arms. The white haired woman took a seat on a wooden chair near her desk.   
  
"What is wrong, Siannagh?"  
  
Salla toddled across the room as Ororo set her down. Her little legs were wobbling dangerously but although she had only began to walk a month or so before, she was quite steady on her feet. The little girl latched herself on to her mother's legs.   
  
"Ma-ma," she giggled, pressing her sweet, overly-skinny cheek against the knee.   
  
"There is nothing wrong…" Siannagh said. Her voice trailed as if her mind were elsewhere. Ororo waited for a minute or two and sure enough, the young mother continued. "I recognise that man. I know his voice."  
  
"From where?" Ororo asked, a sense of apprehension settling over her. "Do you mean Logan?"  
  
"Yes," she whispered. Ororo had to strain to hear her as her voice lowered. "I think…I mean, I don't want to go around accusing everyone, but I think he is the man I saw in the park about two years ago, maybe a bit less. The one who…raped me."  
  
A silence so deep Ororo felt she would drown in it settled over the room for a minute.   
  
"Logan wouldn't do that."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"No," she sighed. "He's unpredictable. If he was drunk…"  
  
"Please, tell no one," begged Siannagh. Salla was still hugging her knees, looking vaguely bemused. "I don't want to hurt anyone. I may have got it wrong."  
  
"May I at least talk to the Professor?" she requested cautiously. "If it was truly Logan, I should inform him. He will do nothing until he is sure, I promise you."  
  
"If you must."  
  
Rape. What a nasty word. The weather witch stood silently, patting Salla fondly on the head. "I will be back soon." 


	6. We'll Wait

Disclaimer: Not mine, apart from Siannagh and Salla.  
  
------o(O)o------  
  
"Logan wouldn't do that," the Professor objected.   
  
"That is what I said," Ororo nodded. "However, she seemed terrified, did she not? Perhaps she has made a mistake, but if not…"  
  
"I should talk to him."  
  
"You cannot."  
  
"Whyever not?" enquired Xavier. He was sat behind his desk, peering through concerned eyes at Storm, who was meeting his gaze unobtrusively. "He has a right to know of what he has been accused of."  
  
"She requested that I do not tell anyone except you," she explained, shifting the weight from one arm to another on her chair. "She doesn't want to harm him, if it turns out he is in fact innocent."  
  
"Then we shall wait until she is ready."  
  
-------o(O)o-------  
  
Rogue climed the stairs to her room after yet another dull day at school. Her hair was ruffled from the wind and as she noticed Scott at the top of the stairs she ran her fingers through the red and white mess in an attempt to straighten it down.  
  
She had heard a new girl had arrived at the Institute, an unidentified mutant whose name, Siannagh, rang a bell in her mind for some reason. Kurt had spoken about nothing else through most of lunch and in every lesson she shared with him. Apparently, the girl had lived for over eighteen months in a disgusting pit cellar with no home comforts or electricity. What a life. To top it all off, she had a fatherless child. She had heard from Kurt that Scott had met her. Another perfect opportunity to talk to Cyclops, her mind informed her, and her pace quickened up the stairs.  
  
"Oh, hey Rogue," smiled Scott. The greeted girl instantly put the distant sound into her voice as she spoke to him, careful and cautious.  
  
"Hi Scott," she said. Dispite his smile, her face remained impassive. However, it was not quite as dark and depressing as usual, Scott noted, which was a good sign. "Have you seen the new girl?"  
  
"Yeah, Siannagh," he confirmed, adjusting his ruby quartz glasses, the only thing that kept those deadly ocular energy beams from frizzling everything in sight, including Rogue. A fact he was ever conscious of. "She seems nice."  
  
"Does she really have a child?"  
  
"Yes," he nodded carefully. Where was this going? Rogue was never curious. "Her name is Salla, she's about a year old. She likes bananas."  
  
"Could Ah see?"  
  
"Bananas?"  
  
"No, Siannagh."  
  
"Oh, I see," Scott laughed. "I'm not entirely sure where her room is, but it should be near yours."  
  
"Thank you." 


	7. I Didn't Rape Her

Disclaimer: Not mine, apart from Siannagh and Salla.  
  
------o(O)o------  
  
Rogue made her way to her room and pulled a comb through her hair. Checking her make-up was still firmly applied, she walked into the corridors and looked around. There was one door a tad ajar. Childish shrieks were drifting towards her from it and once again, family pangs twitched in her stomach. She pushed them down once more and approached the door.  
  
With her protectively gloved hands, she knocked on the door. She could see a woman on all fours chasing a little curly-haired girl around. Both of them were laughing and the young child kept tumbling onto her belly. When she heard the knock, Siannagh instantly leapt to her feet and brushed down the material of her clothes.  
  
"Can I help you?" Siannagh asked, looking curiously at Rogue, whose eyes had widened dramatically. After waiting for a minute, Siannagh spoke again, as Rogue was still stood there obviously dumbstruck. "Is something the matter?"  
  
"I recognise you," she announced. "Have we met?"  
  
"No, I don't think so…"  
  
Without another word, Rogue sprinted back to her own room to think. With a second of confusion, Siannagh ignored the tugging child at her trousers. With a mild sigh she turned back into the room, shutting the door behind her.  
  
-------o(O)o-------  
  
I recognise her, Rogue thought. I've seen her before, but where?  
  
Rogue settled down on her bed, legs folded beneath her. She pulled a pile of paper out of her bag to start on her English essay, but didn't pick up a pen.   
  
Suddenly, in a flash of understanding, she realised the memories that tweaked her mind of the new girl were not her own. They belonged to someone she had touched, someone she had taken the life force out of momentarily with her mutant touch. With a clarity so thin and frail she feared to breathe and cloud it, she realised whose memories she was seeing. Mystique's.   
  
So she has met Mystique, she guessed. Recently, too, otherwise the memory would be too dark. But when, how and why? Perhaps…No, that wasn't possible.  
  
With a shake of her head, she dismissed the thoughts, and began writing with a silver pen from her bag.  
  
-------o(O)o-------  
  
"Stop staring at me!" Logan growled, glaring daggers at Ororo and Xavier who had taken seats across the room from him again. He was not in the best of moods after the Aqua incident, and their incessant staring wasn't improving that. "What?"  
  
"Nothing," said Xavier. He spoke quickly so as to block the words that threatened to fall out of Ororo's mouth any minute. Logan quirked an eyebrow at the expression on the white-haired woman's face, as if she had just caught a whiff of rotten milk.   
  
"Have I done something to displease you?" he asked, his voice drained of goodness, full of sarcasm and venom.   
  
"Wolverine, we have to talk to you," Ororo said. Oh dear, thought Logan, 'Wolverine'? I must be in trouble. A smirk tainted his face. "What are you smiling at?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Did you rape Siannagh?" Ororo asked, her voice almost as venomous as Logan's, and Logan had more practice. Charles Xavier was concerned, such shows of intense emotion were not common in Storm. She was latching on to the little girl, Salla, he suspected.  
  
"Nothing like the direct approach."  
  
"Did you?"  
  
"No," he said, his voice low but honestly bemused. "Why?"  
  
"Siannagh, or Aqua, seemed a bit perturbed by your prescence yesterday," Xavier said. He didn't want Siannagh getting into trouble with a clawed man such as this. "We know she was raped. We had to ask."  
  
"I ain't never raped anyone," he growled. "Been spreading that around, has she?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Why not read my mind, Charles?" said Logan, a scowl deeply etched on his face. The sarcasm was so thick it ran like treacle through his tones. "Why not see for yourself? You should know I would never do that to a woman."  
  
"All possibilities must be discussed."  
  
"I didn't rape her."  
  
And with that, he stormed out of the room better than Ororo ever could. 


	8. It Wasn't Him

Disclaimer: Not mine, except Siannagh and Salla.  
  
-------o(O)o-------  
  
"He didn't rape her," Rogue said. Xavier looked up in surprise as the Goth rushed into his room, without even knocking. It took a second for him to register what she was saying, by which time Rogue had already continued speaking. "Ah know. Ah think Siannagh thinks it was Logan, but it wasn't."  
  
"What are you talking about?" he asked through her rambling. He hadn't told anyone this. He knew Logan wouldn't talk voluntarily and Ororo had gone straight to bed after supper to clear her head, so how did Rogue know? "Who was it?"  
  
"Does Siannagh think it was Logan?" she asked. "Does she think he's the father?"  
  
"Yes," he confirms. Rogue was near to histerical. Something had obviously disturbed her; she never spoke this much. A thought dawned on Xavier, the same thought Rogue had pushed away earlier that day. "Rogue, what do you know?"  
  
"Ah was thinking," she explained. "Ah was tryin' to figure out where Ah'd seen Siannagh before, then Ah realised Ah haven't seen her before and what Ah was getting were someone else's memories. Really, really sick memories. Ah'm not sure who, but yah know Ah can take people's memories by accident? Ah reckon that's what's happened. It must have been someone Ah touched recently."  
  
"Have you no idea who?" he asked, suspicions slowly building. Now, who did he know that could appear as anyone they wished? The person he had in mind certainly fitted the discription and was definitely twisted enough to carry it out. "Was it -"  
  
"Mystique," she cut through. She had jumped on the same train of though her Professor had. "It was her, it must have been. That's disgusting!"  
  
"Do you remember what happened?" he asked, moving his wheelchair closer to her. Rogue shook her head and took a seat, knowing what the next question would be. "Can I read your memories?"  
  
"You can't touch my skin," she reminded him.   
  
"It is not necessary," he said, raising his hands to a centimetre or so away from her head. "It makes the thoughts clearer, but this is perfectly fine. Just try to relax."  
  
She felt him in her head instantly, as if he had walked over a mental bridge into her memories. Xavier explored her mind, avoided conscious thoughts; that only led to embarrassment on both their parts. He had learnt from experience not to delve deeply into a teenage mind.  
  
He reached the memory he wanted, and steeled himself for what was to come. It seemed out of place with the dark memories of Rogue's and if memories could be coloured, this one would have been blood red. 


	9. Memories

Disclaimer: Not mine, except Siannagh and Salla and the leaves on the willow tree *wink* …Not that there *is* a Willow Tree in this chapter, but…hey, shit happens.  
  
-------o(O)o-------  
  
***"Get away from me," a voice suddenly yelled. "Get off me!"  
  
A woman who he recognised as Siannagh, obviously quite a bit younger and still in her late teens, walked across the park. The voice came from a drunk woman outside the pub across the park, nothing to do with Siannagh as he had first thought. Xavier recognised the ominous blue woman standing only a foot away from him, and smiled. So it was Mystique who had commited this disgusting crime.  
  
Mystique fixed her focus on Siannagh as she walked past. In an instant, Mystique's blue skin was replaced by the skin of Logan. Her facial features changed from female to male and the long red hair shortened and took on the style of Wolverine, complete with the right shade of brown. To all appearances, it was Logan stood beside Xavier, not Mystique.  
  
"Are you alright?" Mystique/Logan asked the girl, who jumped violently and spun to face him. She was strangely twitchy, no wonder, as Logan's voice was not the friendliest in the world. "I said, are you alright?"  
  
"I'm fine," she said, as if the matter was closed. She carried on walking, but Mystique followed her in the tough body of Logan. "Stop following me, sir."  
  
The Logan shaped metamorphose grabbed her wrist. Siannagh's scream ripped through the night air but no one heard over the music from local nightclubs and bars. With a grimace, Xavier drew out as he saw Logan/Mystique pressed against the poor screeching girl.***  
  
-------o(O)o-------  
  
"My goodness," Rogue said, shifting away from Professor Xavier, who was looking about the room, completely shocked. This was the worst thing he had ever seen, or 'remembered', the shape-shifting mutant do. Rogue closed her eyes, struggling to stop the memory continuing as it had done before. "That was disgusting. How could she do such a thing?"  
  
"I have no idea," Xavier admitted. "I must find Logan."  
  
"How are you going to tell Siannagh?"  
  
"I'll cross that extremely wobbly bridge when I come to it." 


	10. Two Mothers

Disclaimer: Not mine, except Siannagh and Salla. I know some of this is not completely believably but hey, to vaguely quote Kitty (who, as a randomness, annoys me) from my rubbish memory: "I walk through walls, what's not to believe?"  
  
Yes, I know this is very, very short, but I don't have time. Time! How it flows *grin*  
  
--------o(O)o-------  
  
"Logan?"  
  
"Get lost."  
  
"No chance," Rogue said, approaching him. "Professor Xavier is looking for you."  
  
"What a surprise."  
  
"He knows it wasn't you," she said. He was sat on the bech underneath the overhanging trees, shade covering the most of his scowl which softened momentarily at this statement. Rogue sat next to him, keeping her distance. "He read my mind."  
  
"How did that make him see it wasn't me?" he growled, an eyebrow arched. "Been spyin'?"  
  
"Of course not," she laughed. "Ah have some of Mystiques memories."  
  
"Still a bit unclear."  
  
"It was her."  
  
Silence replaced their talk. Rogue, who had been staring at her hands as she spoke, looked up to see an expression of pure shock over Logan's rough face.  
  
"She's a girl."  
  
"She's a shape-shifting mutant," Rogue corrected him. Realisation dawned loudly in Logan's mind.   
  
"That poor kid has two mothers, then," pointed out the angry man as he stood up to return to the mansion. "I'm going to find Xavier." 


	11. That Went Well

Charles Xavier was resting. It had been a hectic day and night to say the least as the constant apologising to everyone involved had really taken it out of him. Logan was scowling in the corners; not just in one corner, either. Whatever rooms Xavier retreated to, Logan appeared, full of scowls and dark glares. Eventually Charles knew he had do something to stop it, he was feeling more and more uncomfortable every moment.  
  
"Logan, why don't you locate Mystique?" he suggested. "She's the one you should be glaring at, not me."  
  
Noiselessly, he had left in his full uniform.  
  
Now for that extremely wobbly bridge he had mentioned to Rogue before. Siannagh. This could definitely be a problem.  
  
As Rogue walked past him, he beckoned her closer. "Rogue, I want you to find Siannagh for me. I believe she is in her room. Would you tell her-"  
  
"Yeah, Professor," affirmed Rogue. "Listen, Logan said something about Salla having two mothers. Ah know Mystique is a girl and all, but is that possible?"  
  
"From the evidence I believe it is indeed possible."  
  
"That's fucking twisted."  
  
"Rogue."  
  
"Sorry, Professor, but it is," Rogue shrugged. "It makes me queasy jus' thinking of it, you know?"  
  
"I do indeed, but that is no excuse for profanity."  
  
With a grim smile, Rogue carried on to her ascent of the stairs to find Siannagh. Just like the Professor, really, to make it look like he was doing all the work but actually shove all the effort onto everyone else. She grinned to herself, hiding the rare smile quickly.  
  
--------o(O)o-------  
  
Siannagh heard three distinct taps on her door and placed her child on the ground with intense maternal care. Salla whined momentarily, but soon received a gently kiss on the forehead and settled down on a tiny beanbag chair.  
  
"Who is it?" she called to the door, taking a step toward it. She couldn't hear what was being said on the other side of the door as it was too muffled and her hearing wasn't the best on the planet, but she recognised the tone as that of Rogue. "Oh, Rogue, come in."  
  
The door clicked as it opened. Siannagh noticed that was slightly indistinct too, and wondered if she should get her hearing checked again.  
  
"Hey Rogue," she smiled, placing herself back down on the bed, motioning for Rogue to sit on the chair by the desk. "What's up?"  
  
"Not Logan, that's for sure."  
  
Insert stunned silence here.  
  
"What do you mean?" she asked, her eyebrows forming creases on her pale forehead as she frowned. "It's not the sort of thing I'd like to talk about at the moment, I mean, Logan is that... Man, that you mentioned. I was in a good mood."  
  
"Ah'm sorry, but it's important," shrugged Rogue. "It wasn't him."  
  
"What wasn't him?"  
  
"He's not the father," she explained, taking a deep breath as soon as the sentence was over; she hadn't breathed properly since she had entered the room. "Mystique is...well, not the father, but..."  
  
"What do you mean?" she repeated. Her face was a picture of bafflement. "Isn't Mystique that woman Kurt was talking about at dinner, his mother? The-"  
  
"Shapeshifter," Rogue finished for her, staring pointedly. Siannagh blanched. A glass of water on the windowsill began to put on a very spray-filled display. "Don't panic...It would explain why her mutation is visible at birth. Ah mean, look at Kurt."  
  
"It was a girl...?"  
  
"I'm sorry," she pulled a grim smile. "At least she has siblings now, though...Me and Kurt."  
  
"Maybe she doesn't want siblings," Siannagh growled, gathering the scared-looking child into her grip. "Get out. Don't come back here, tell the same to Kurt."  
  
The next thing Rogue was aware of was the door being slammed in her face. After a couple of seconds of stupefied blinking, she grinned.  
  
"Well, that went well," she commented, and for an instant Mystique was stood in her place, her blue face filled with malevolence. 


	12. Unexpected Visitor

Mystique took her shape as a young girl, one of the students who remained unnamed by most of the older people.   
  
She trolled leisurely around the mansion, of course knowing it was risky but also knowing that the security was   
  
slightly reduced at this time in the morning. She had slept in the little girl's bed after locking the child in the   
  
cupboard. According to the books on the table and her rather interesting diary proclaiming love for most of the   
  
males and strangely some of the females in the mansion, her name was Bridgett. Nice name, thought Mystique, as   
  
she made her way to the kitchen.  
  
She fetched some crisps from the cupboard ((Note: That's chips to you Americans)), salt and vinegar; her favourite.   
  
However, her private feast was interrupted by incoming mutants, and she sped from the room to hide.  
  
It was Logan. After a fruitless night of searching for Mystique, he was incredibly pissed off to say the least. He   
  
snatched a beer from a tiny portable fridge in the very top cupboard and scrutinised the room. Something was off,   
  
but he couldn't place his finger, or his adamantium claws, on it.  
  
The can hissed as it opened and when the sharp, cool smell of beer had disappeared he suddenly smelt something.  
  
"Mystique," he hissed. He stood up, following the scent and leaving the can of beer unnoticed. As he charged out,   
  
Rogue appeared behind him; the real Rogue.  
  
"Cool," she said, and picked up the beer. She took a swig. "He has a stash."  
  
--------o(O)o--------  
  
There was no chance of escape, Mystique realised with dismay. That animal was going to find her, probably tear her   
  
apart unless she could convince him otherwise. Not an easy feat.  
  
"Mystique, you slut," he whispered, keeping his voice low so as not to frighten the sleepy children who were filing   
  
past him for breakfast. Kurt gave him a cheerful wave, still in his stripy blue pyjamas, but was ignored with icy   
  
coldness.  
  
"Looking for someone, Logan?" the fuzzy elf asked, picking pillow fluff from the points of his ears. "Need any   
  
help?"  
  
"Get lost, elf," he growled, berating himself mentally. Don't take it out on him, something told him inside, probably   
  
that annoying little thing called a conscience. He softened his voice. "No, no help needed, get to breakfast."  
  
"Jawohl..." he muttered, and trailed away in the direction of food.  
  
"Oh, for heaven's sake," called a voice from a few feet away from him. Mystique, his nose revealed. "If you're going   
  
to find me, at least do it quickly and don't start flirting with my son."  
  
"Flirting with your-" started Logan, glancing back at Kurt in bewilderment. "I wasn't flirting wi- Oh, Mystique, you   
  
play such childish games."  
  
"I know," she giggled childishly; after all, she was still in Bridgett's form. "But isn't it fun?"  
  
"Like raping an innocent girl and getting her pregnant while using someone else's body?"  
  
"Something like that," she scowled. "Don't stick your claws in where it doesn't concern you, Wolverine."  
  
"I think this does concern me," he pointed out. "She thinks I am the father."  
  
"You are," Mystique grinned suddenly, the effect quite eerie on such a young girl. "She has your characteristics, I   
  
believe, and she will be a healer at the very least. I took on everything of your body."  
  
"You're twisted," he said. "No more talk. Take your proper form."  
  
"I don't think so;" she said. "It'll take more than a command from the legendary Wolverine to get me to reveal   
  
myself in front of all these children."  
  
As she looked around the room where they stood, Logan followed her gaze. A couple of children were watching, but   
  
at a sneer from both mutants, they both made their escapes. Without waiting for any more distractions, Mystique   
  
rushed past him, still in the form of the little child. Logan didn't bother following her. 


	13. Bewilderment

Disclaimer: All I own is Salla and Siannagh. And my marbles. By the way, has anyone seen them? I seem to have lost them…*giggle*  
  
---------o(O)o---------  
  
"I think, one day, I shall go insane," Xavier announced, as Logan advanced threateningly upon him. "What is it, Logan? Where is Mystique? I felt her presence in the building, but resolved not to interfere."  
  
"Good plan," he nodded. He looked distinctly disgruntled. "Mystique stayed here as a little girl. I don't know what she was doing here but something tells me it wasn't just for the food she swiped."  
  
"She must have seen Siannagh."  
  
"That's what I thought," he nodded. "Maybe I should check if the new girl is alright."  
  
"No, Logan, that is not a good idea," Xavier said quickly. "I sent Rogue to talk to her, but she will not be ready to see you."  
  
A sigh rattled Logan's adamantium-framed chest. "I was actually having a good week before this happened. Now I find out some young girl thinks I'm the father to her child, when actually it's a blue slapper who has had far too many affairs in her time."  
  
"You way with words astounds me."  
  
---------o(O)o---------  
  
Siannagh sat cowering in the corner, staring constantly at the door. Things were so strange here. Sure, it was better than being locked in a basement freezing cold and so hungry it had often felt her stomach had taken to feasting on itself, but now she was out she could go anywhere, she reasoned.  
  
Suddenly, she had made up her mind. Her things were not yet properly unpacked, so all she had to do was scoop the remaining items back into a small bag. She brushed Salla's hair around her face to attempt to hide the dark black stripes on her cheekbones, and reached from some scissors to cut a long fringe to hide the horn on her brow. Once she had found her shoes and bright green coat she had borrowed off of someone in the mansion whose name evaded her, she made to leave.  
  
She didn't get past the door. Rogue passed her in the corridor. She was just about to leave for school. She looked up at Siannagh, who quailed and began to walks swiftly out of the door.  
  
"Siannagh, where are you going?" Rogue asked, instantly calling Xavier in her mind. "What are you doing?"  
  
"She doesn't want any siblings," said Siannagh, bundling Salla up closer to her. She adjusted the bag on her back as it started to slip. "I told you to stay away."  
  
"No you didn't," replied Rogue. She looked utterly bemused. "What are you talking about? Ah haven't seen you since-"  
  
"This morning."  
  
"No," she said with a shake of her head. "Ah haven't seen you since last night."  
  
This stunned Siannagh a bit, luckily long enough for Xavier to arrive. "Siannagh! Where are you going?"  
  
"What is this, a prison?" she asked, but found she was unwilling to walk any further. "Why do you lot keep trying to stop me? I want to leave."  
  
"That of course is fine," said Xavier, "but we would be very much obliged if you could tell us a motive."  
  
"I don't want to be here, you're all to strange."  
  
"Ah like her new haircut," Rogue commented, pointing at Salla whose face was smeared with silent tears, unseen to Siannagh who had all her attention focused on Xavier.   
  
"Rogue, did you tell her?" asked Xavier. "Like I asked?"  
  
"You didn't ask me anything…" frowned Rogue, her voice drifting as she tried to remember anything. "Not that I remember, anyway. Ah've been in the shower all morning. Can Ah leave for school yet?"  
  
"Sorry Rogue, but we need to talk to you," he replied. "Come to my office. Please, Siannagh."  
  
With the slightest of hesitations, she nodded.  
  
---------o(O)o---------  
  
They all sat in silence for a moment or two as each of them waited for the other to speak. Rogue was fiddling with her gloves, Siannagh was holding Salla in a scarily protective grip and Xavier was thinking deeply. Eventually, Rogue broke the silence.  
  
"Ah'm not usually in a rush to get to school, but…"  
  
"I know, Rogue," interrupted Xavier, looking up to meet her eye contact with a steady gaze. "I'm sorry. Siannagh, did Rogue visit you earlier?"  
  
"Yes," she confirmed. "She said it wasn't Logan, it was Mystique."  
  
"Rogue," he said, turning to the Goth girl who was looking befuddled. "Did you visit Siannagh ealier and tell her this?"  
  
"No," she said, the confusion on her face increasing. "Ah was in the shower."  
  
"It seems we have discovered the reason Mystique was in the building this morning," he commented, watching Siannagh for a reaction, but there was none. "She must have shown herself as Rogue."  
  
"Mystique is a complete bitch," spat Rogue, her cheeks red. "If Ah ever set eyes on her again, Ah swear Ah'll-"  
  
"Rogue."  
  
"Sorry Professor."  
  
"Siannagh, I apologise for anything that Mystique may have said to you," Xavier said, his voice dripping with concern. "I will be more careful in the future. And Rogue, why do you smell of alchohol?"  
  
Rogue cleared her throat and swiftly left the room, making the excuse that she had to get to school. Xavier couldn't help it. He grinned.  
  
Siannagh, however, didn't.  
  
"I don't think I'll cope here," she said. "I see the man who…who…fathered my child, then find out he didn't father her but a woman in his body did who already has numerous children…"  
  
"Would you like me to find Mystique for you?"  
  
"Not a chance," she growled. "I'll find her for myself."  
  
With that, she was gone. 


	14. Unicorn

Disclaimer: So repetitive. I do not and will not ever own the Xmen, but wouldn't that be cool? Also, I don't own Amy Studt, the writer of the lyrics at the beginning of the song.  
  
-------o(O)o------  
  
"You say I'm just a little girl, just a little girl How can I compare? What do I know? What have I got to share? But there's nothing in this world, nothing in this world That could hold me down, can't you hear me? Don't you understand That I wanna be myself, wanna be the girl, Wanna be the one that you can rely on How I wish that you could see all there is of me How I long to hear that you take me For who I am."  
  
A sweet, gently husky voice floated through the mansion. It wasn't Storm, for although she had been known to carry a tune she was out looking for Siannagh who had left without a word to find Mystique earlier on in that day. It was nearing midday, so it was none of the younger students.  
  
Kurt had come home with a bad stomach from eating something out of the cupboards that was not completely in date. He flopped on his bed with a bottle of fruit flavoured water and began drifting into a snooze when the sound of the singing awoke him. He became curious and teleported a level up, where the sound seemed to be coming from.  
  
What he saw astounded him. Salla, Siannagh's one year old child, was belting out the song with no problem at all. Seeing as Kurt had only heard the little girl speak one word, 'Mama', he was pretty surprised to say the least.  
  
The singing paused abruptly as Salla saw Kurt. She was sat on her own in the corridor, dressed in clothes that were obviously borrowed from another mother for they didn't quite fit her. The little girl giggled, a bubbly sound that brought a smile to the blue elf's face.   
  
"How did you do that, Salla?" he asked, squatting beside her. "How did you sing like that?"  
  
"Shapeshifter," she hissed in exactly the same tone as Rogue. No, it was more than that, it was Rogue's voice, a perfect copy. She must have heard it somewhere and stored it to memory, Kurt reasoned. "Don't panic. It would explain why her mutation is visible at birth."  
  
"Can you copy voices?" he asked, realisation dawning. He smiled. "That's a nice gift."  
  
Salla smiled back at him, copying his expression and German accent perfectly. "That's a nice gift."  
  
"Come on," he whispered, picking her up gently. "Let's get you to Xavier."  
  
"He's not the father," she continued, taking on Rogue's voice again. "Mystique is…well, not the father, but…"  
  
"Mystique?" he gasped. She mimicked him. A frown creased the blue fur on his forehead. "I have to find the Professor now."  
  
BAMF.  
  
-------o(O)o------  
  
"Professor?" Kurt called.  
  
"Yes Kurt, come in," the familiar voice of the leader of the Xmen came from behind the wooden doors. "The door is unlocked."  
  
Kurt pushed it with his free hand, still holding Salla to his chest.  
  
"Is something the matter?" asked Charles Xavier, moving closer to them in his very smart-looking wheelchair. He had a book in his hand, but the title was covered. "Why are you not at school, Kurt?"  
  
"I felt sick," he said with a nod. "I was going to bed, vhen I heard Salla singing."  
  
"Salla is just a child, she can barely speak," he frowned. "Are you sure you are not delusional from the sickness?"  
  
"I heard it," he promised. "She copied Rogue's voice also."  
  
There was a faint ringing sound, as if from a phone. Both Kurt and Xavier peered around, but couldn't see where the sound was coming from, so they continued with the conversation.  
  
"I cannot see why her powers, if any, would show themselves so early," Xavier admitted. "Perhaps it is the case of stress; babies absorb a lot more than we think."  
  
The ringing persisted.   
  
"Kurt, do you have a cell phone?"  
  
"Nein, Herr Xavier," he said with a raised brow. "Have you?"  
  
Xavier smiled and shook his head. "Not here. What is making that noise?"  
  
Then, suddenly, it clicked in both of their minds. Four eyes looked in surprise at Salla, who was happily ringing away.  
  
"It seems the Unicorn can make noises," chuckled Kurt, patting the top of her lightly curled hair gently.   
  
"Unicorn?"  
  
"Ja, Unicorn," repeated Kurt. He pulled across the newly cut fringe. "Salla has a horn, like the Unicorns. So I called her that."  
  
"Is her mother around?" he asked. "We need her agreement to do a mind search of her youngster, to see what we can find out."  
  
"Nein, she has gone out," Kurt told his Professor. "At least, that is vhat I guess."  
  
"Would you care for her for a while?" he requested. Kurt nodded. "Thank you, Kurt."  
  
He turned his chair around and began to return to the spot by the window where he was before Kurt had interrupted his reading. Kurt, however, didn't move. This was obvious from the ringing still reverberating around the room.  
  
"Is there something else?" he sighed. "You should get some rest if you feel under-the-weather."  
  
"Is she my sister?" Kurt, otherwise known as Nightcrawler, asked impulsively. Xavier didn't turn his head but he felt the nod rather than saw it. He stood up before he could be asked how he knew, because to be entirely honest, he had no idea. "Thank you, Professor." 


	15. Da Name's Gambit

Disclaimer: Still not mine. *sigh* I don't own 'em.  
  
This chapter is dedicated to my faithful Cajun translator and bestest friend in the multiverse, Amy/Wyn/Bun. She's on here, as Starlight...Wanna read her stories? Check out my favourite authors, she's on there.  
  
-------o(O)o------  
  
Now Siannagh had calmed herself down a little bit, she realised that she had no idea whatsoever as to where she was going. She didn't know anything of the area anymore; it was surprising how much it could change in such a short period of time, but with mutants constantly blowing things up on purpose or by accident, it was hardly surprising.  
  
Besides, all she knew about Mystique was that she could change the shape of her body and her voice to anyone she wished. In that case, she could be anyone. At this thought she glanced suspiciously around the bar in which she sat, sipping at her fizzy apple.  
  
"Hey sugar," someone hissed, and Siannagh jumped violently. She turned to see a pasty-faced man with a scar running down his cheek and filthy, well torn jeans. The whole effect was enhanced by the unwashed stained dress shirt that looked as though it should live in a zoo, not be put on someone to retain bodily heat. Siannagh sighed and stared into her drink. The man touched her shoulder, none too gently. "What, you ignorin' me?"  
  
His voice was slurred as he spoke. She grimaced in disgust as he pulled her face up to look at him.   
  
"Don' ignore me," he announced, with a scowl. "No one ignores Big Bill."  
  
"Apart from me," she hissed, and stood up after draining the last of her drink. "Let go of me."  
  
He did, but only because another man yanked his arm back from behind. 'Big Bill' spun around to be face to face with a younger man who looked undaunted by the tall man in front of him. Siannagh looked at him, and her gaze was met by a pair of dark sunglasses, unusual for a pub. The man, who was only a small bit shorter than Big Bill, was wearing dark untorn jeans, a bandana tied loosely around his neck and a black t-shirt under a large, well used brown trenchcoat. He appeared strange to Siannagh, yet something about him made all the peculiarity turn into a weird sort of familiarity that she couldn't understand.  
  
With barely an effort, he pushed Big Bill a good distance away from them. The drunken man did not attempt to return, to Siannagh's relief.  
  
"Are y' ok, chere?" her 'saviour' asked, stepping closer to her. His accent was obviously Cajun, from the way he pronounced his words.   
  
Siannagh shrugged nonchalantly. "Not really, but I'll cope," she said.  
  
"Y' wanna be careful," smiled the man. "Remy won' always be around t' protect y', chere."  
  
Siannagh laughed sarcastically. She was not in the best mood, and she really didn't need arrogance, even if it was half-playful. She began to walk out of the pub.  
  
Remy looked distinctly confused, but followed her anyway. "Wha'd Remy say?" he asked. She ignored him. "Woah, woah! Obviously, Remy wasn' makin' a good impression. Le' me try again. Can I buy y' a drink?"  
  
"I'm sorry," she declined his offer, attempting to lose him by walking a little bit faster. "I'm busy."  
  
"Anyt'in' Remy can help wit'?"  
  
"No," she replied, shaking her head and keeping her eyes on the ground. "Not unless you know the shape shifting mutant who fathered my child."  
  
Shit, she thought. Really sensible thing to say to a complete stranger.  
  
To her surprise, though, he didn't bolt at this outburst. He reached for her arm and stopped her walking. Siannagh didn't resist, but quickly noticed a puddle of murky water that could come in handy should he attack her. Perhaps she could make it splash in his face, just to give her enough escaping time.  
  
"I only know one metamorph, chere," he announced, letting go of her arm. "An' she's a femme."   
  
"Are you serious?" she asked, looking up at him incredulously.   
  
"Remy woul'n' lie t' y', chere," he promised with the slightest of smiles. Siannagh had somehow expected it to be night outside from the dank lighting of the pub, but now she looked around she realised it was almost certainly noon, and it was incredibly sunny. The man, Remy, followed her gaze but wasn't distracted. "Maybe Mystique knows who y' lookin' for."  
  
"I should think she knows," she replied, scowling deeply. "Seeing as she is the psychotic bitch I'm looking for."  
  
This received a well earned awkward silence as Remy considered what she had just said. Siannagh could almost see his thought process; mild confusion, shock, disgust and then gentle, bitter amusement. "Damn, dat girl gets more twisted e'ery day."  
  
"You can say that again."  
  
She began walking. Even if this man did know Mystique, she doubted he would take her there. However, he could not be shaken off so easily.  
  
"Remy'll help y' find her," he said, walking to meet her brisk pace. She paused again. "If y' wan'."  
  
"You honestly know where she is?"  
  
"Well, no," he started, looking momentarily awkward. "Not exactly. But Remy seen her aroun', an' he think he knows where she migh' be."  
  
"How?" she whispered, honestly intruigued. Why would a complete strange want to help her like this?  
  
"We mutants tend t' stick toget'er," he smiled. With that, he lowered the sunglasses he wore. Siannagh gasped in surprise as she saw the reason why he hid his eyes. Red pupils on black eyeballs. So that's why he wanted to help; he had guessed she was a mutant too, presumably. "Lis'en, I t'ink you haven' mentioned y' name yet, chere."  
  
"Siannagh," she whispered. Her voice seemed to have left her. "I'm also Aqua."  
  
"Nice t' meet y' Aqua," he grinned, taking her hand and shaking it. "Remy's also known as Gambit. Now, le' me see where dis good for not'in' bitch is hiding." 


	16. Logan and Babyfood

Disclaimer: Don't own Xmen. Don't own sanity, either, but that's another matter.  
  
Oh, which reminds me, this version of Gambit isn't an acolyte. I haven't seen any ones with him in yet, and besides, I like him good.  
  
-------o(O)o------  
  
Wolverine was worried. Xavier had told him not to go after her, but Siannagh had been gone a good six hours now and still hadn't returned. Dispite himself, he was beginning to get concerned. He shook his head and carried on with what he was doing; walking to the shops for some baby food.  
  
As could be expected, Logan wasn't all too fond of children younger than seven or eight. They bugged him with their snotty little noses and big puppy-dog eyes. However, this little girl Salla had grown on him in the short time she had been there. Already, he had agreed to buy the food for her without even a second thought, which was unusual.  
  
//Urgh,// he thought, with a shake of his head. //I'll be getting all broody next.//  
  
The automatic doors hissed as he walked through. He automatically moved towards the alcohol aisles but stopped, and turned into the baby care section. Ooh, lots of pretty baby clothes...  
  
//Grrr//, he thought. //Damn that little kid.//  
  
He ignored the temptation to stare at the baby toys, and moved to the food section. There was quite a selection. He glanced incomprehensively at the jars on the shelves, then followed a woman with a baby in a pushchair and picked up everything she did. Chicken and mushroom, cheesy parsnip and potatoes, creamed harvest vegetables and apricot custard. How could those babies stomach this mush?  
  
Eventually, the woman noticed Logan trailing her and smiled. "First time father?"  
  
"I ain't no father," he growled. This was far too embarrassing. The woman, extremely disturbed, scurried away. "Stupid junk."  
  
As he passed the toys this time, though, he couldn't resist. There was a simply adorable little lime green teddy bear with large black beady eyes and a cute button nose. He smiled grimly at the fact he was even considering touching something so cute, but picked it up anyway. He also grabbed some very cute pink and yellow outfits for her, judging the size randomly. As an afterthought, he fetched some nappies and nappy cream. He pondered momentarily at the nappy bags, but left them untouched and went to pay at the till.  
  
The cashier recognised Logan as the man who brought large amounts of beer and, for some strange reason, cheese flavoured crackers so she was more than a bit surprised when he appeared with a basket full of baby products. However, she knew better than to question anything a customer bought.  
  
She packed it away wordlessly and he paid with some spare cash he kept in his wallet. Sure, that money was not exactly intended to buy baby clothes, but stranger things have happened.  
  
//On second thoughts//, he reflected, //No they haven't.//  
  
------o(O)o------  
  
"...So den Remy is 'ere," finished Remy. To the best of Siannagh's knowledge, he had just told her his entire life story. "What abou' y'?"  
  
"Born, raped, put in a basement, rescued," she summarised, not wanting to go into too much detail. "Oh, I missed out 'gave birth'."  
  
"Remy is sorry, chere," he said. They both took the moment of silence to look where they had walked to. It was definitely not the best part of town. The sun was retreating from the middle of the sky and Siannagh estimated that it was probably about two o'clock. "I didn' brin' any transpor'."  
  
"You brought your feet," she pointed out. "How far is it now?"  
  
"Wit' de perfec' timin' I often show," he announced, "Remy has found it."  
  
Siannagh looked up at the run down house he had led her to with a sigh. Somehow she doubted that a woman who could be anyone she wanted would choose to live like this, but she might as well give it a go. She let him lead her through the front door, which was locked but easily picked.  
  
"MYSTIQUE, Y' BITCH," he yelled up the stairs after a careful investigation of the downstairs. There was nothing living, but clear signs of inhabitation, like empty crisp packets. "Come down here."  
  
An old lady appeared at the top of the stairs, hobbling on a little stick. Her glasses were crooked and her hair was a mess.   
  
"What are you doing here?" the little old lady croaked, looking disgruntled. "Get out of my house young man, or I will be forced to call the police."  
  
"Mystique," Gambit growled, "no use playin' de innocent wit' Remy. I know dat's you, so come down. Aqua here wan's to talk t' y'."  
  
"I'm sorry, son, but my name isn't Mystique," she insisted. "And I'm pretty sure I don't know anyone called 'Aqua'."  
  
Siannagh tugged at Remy's trench coat, and he turned to face her with a flickering glare at the old lady.  
  
"Remy, what if that's not her?" she suggested. "What if you have got the wrong place?"  
  
"Remy don' make mistakes, chere."  
  
"Everyone does at some point."  
  
"Let Remy deal wi' this. He knows wha' he's doin'."  
  
//Stubborn bastard,// she thought, but sighed and stood back to let him do his thing. //This is far too embarrassing.//  
  
"Mystique, Remy t'ink y' know dis girl," he said. "Remy be t'inkin', perhaps you'd like to talk t' her."  
  
There was a moment of silence and distinct recognition flickered over the woman's face. Remy looked satisfied and threw a smug grin in the direction of Siannagh. When he looked back, Mystique was descending the stairs. 


	17. Close Encounter

Disclaimer: Don't own Xmen. Don't own sanity, either, but that's another matter.  
  
Oh, which reminds me, this version of Gambit isn't an acolyte. I haven't seen any ones with him in yet, and besides, I like him good.  
  
------o(O)o------  
  
Siannagh raised her eyebrows. The strange blue woman walking down the stairs was clothed in an unusual white dress and thigh-high white boots. She wore a belt of skulls, with a matching pendant on her forehead below her bright red hair. Her eyes were similar to Kurt's in their colouring.  
  
"I didn't think I'd be seeing you ever again," she said. "Long time no see. So you discovered the dark secret you have been keeping without knowing?"  
  
Siannagh had thought of so much to say on her walk to this place, while she had been pretending to listen to Gambit's life story, but suddenly on seeing this woman every clear thought in her head was shoved aside for a pure, desperate terror. Instinctively, she clung to Remy. Of course, Remy didn't object, but he didn't say anything either.  
  
"Cat got your tongue?" she asked, venom plastered over her blue face. "Come on now, I'm not that scary, am I?"  
  
"Considerin' wha' y' did t' her..."  
  
"Shut up, Gambit," Mystique snapped. "Why are you even here? No, don't tell me, she was a damsel in distress and you just couldn't resist?"  
  
"Somet'in like dat," he muttered. "Bitch."  
  
"Bit too old to be calling names, aren't you?"  
  
"Shut up!" cired Siannagh suddenly. The other two both looked at her. "Remy, I'm sorry, but can you wait outside? I have to talk to her."  
  
"D'accord, chere," he nodded and slammed the door shut behind him. A layer of dust became unsettled and fell around them. Mystique brushed it away impatiently.  
  
"How could you do such a thing?" Siannagh asked. As nasty and malicious this woman seemed to be, she couldn't picture her ... doing what she did. "Why me?"  
  
"I haven't got a good excuse," she admitted. Her whole tone softened as soon as Gambit was out of the room. "I was drunk, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Get that arrogant bastard Logan into a little bit of trouble. As much as I hate to admit this, I am sorry."  
  
This stunned Siannagh for a moment. Anger was brushed away with the dust. "Did you intend to get me pregnant?"  
  
"Of course not!" she cried, half laughing. "I didn't even know it was possible for that to happen, but you live and you learn. How ... how is it?"  
  
"How is what?"  
  
"The child."  
  
"She's alright," she replied, with a slight head inclination. "Have you seen her?"  
  
"I was Rogue," she admitted. "I was curious to see what it looked like. She has a visible mutation, I saw."  
  
"Of course," she muttered bitterly. "Yet another child brought into a world where she cannot and will not be accepted."  
  
"Chere? Are y' alright?" called Gambit from outside. There was no crashing and thumping, he realised, so they weren't fighting or if they were they were doing it successfully silently. "Wan' me t' help?"  
  
At his voice, Mystique's whole posture and facial expression changed as quickly as she could change shape. She was once again Mystique, überbitch, full of egotism and anger.  
  
"Get out," she hissed. "Don't come back."  
  
-------o(O)o------  
  
Logan looked in confusion at the nappy in front of him. Salla was wiggling her legs at him as she lay on her back on the towel he had spread, waiting for him to sort it out. She was wearing the top he had picked up and was grasping fondly at the teddy bear, but still looked disgruntled.  
  
"How the fu-" he started, then corrected himself. He had already been told that this little girl could copy voices and he didn't want her swearing at Charles. He gathered his breath and attempted to work out the nappy.  
  
Eventually, he managed to attach it to her in a reasonable manner. He pulled her little baby sized skirt back on and stood her up. She wobbled ominously for a second or two, then thumped back to the ground. She must have shook something inside for she started wailing loudly, the sound tearing at Logan's eardrums.  
  
"Argh, shut up!" he hissed, and picked her up carefully. Of course, Jean Grey took that exact moment to walk in and see the normally unshakable man look completely and utterly flustered. He cursed under his breath. "Whadd'you want?"  
  
"I heard some crying," she explained, stifling a giggle. "Came to see what's up. Thought perhaps you'd finally had a nervous breakdown."  
  
"In a bathroom?" he laughed, dispite himself. "Never gonna happen, red."  
  
"Do you need some help?" she asked, kneeling down next to him and Salla. The baby had quietened, but was still sobbing gently into her teddy bear. "Here, let me take her."  
  
"I can handle it," he said, but let her take the child anyway. He had the feeling she needed a woman's care, now that her mother had buggered off to seek revenge, apparently. "Careful."  
  
"You like her, don't you?" Jean asked, pointing out the obviously. It took a second or two for Salla to settle down, but soon enough she began to giggle. Logan nodded and Jean smiled. "She's adorable."  
  
"I can handle it," Salla mimicked in the exact tone of Logan's rough voice. Jean laughed and Salla switched to Jean's voice. "Scott is sooo cute."  
  
Logan laughed, and Jean blushed. "When did she hear you say that?" he asked.  
  
"It might not have been me," she pointed out, but it was. She sighed. "This child is going to be a nightmare, I can just see it."  
  
"You were calling her adorable a second ago."  
  
"Opinions change, Logan," she laughed. "I used to think you wouldn't touch a child with a ten foot bargepole, but there you go."  
  
She handed the now gently burbling child back to him, and walked away. 


	18. Not In Public

Disclaimer: I don't own Xmen, if you haven't got the drift from the past 17 chapters. Hehehe. PLEASE COMMENT!  
  
Oh, and Xiowolfe, you mentioned in a review about Mystique using Quicksilver's powers…To the best of my memory, she didn't, she just ran fast. Sorry for any confusion ^^. Logan didn't follow because he didn't want to.  
  
Call me strange, but I'm really enjoying writing this. Logan and babies don't usual mix, do they? *manical laughter*  
  
-------o(O)o------  
  
"Once upon a time there was little girl and her name was-" started Logan, Salla propped up on his lap. Jean was sat across the room from them, watching with a motherly smile. He was stuck, though. Names stumped him. "Her name was…"  
  
"Hey Rogue," Salla said in a perfect immitation of her mother's voice. "What's up?"  
  
"Her name was Rogue," he decided. Salla giggled sweetly. "She lived in a big house with lots of servants, but she wasn't happy. She was bored. So one day she decided to start a war."  
  
"Logan!"  
  
"What?" he asked. With a sigh, he continued. "Fine, fine. She decided to find a…Unicorn. So she went out to the forest with her army-"  
  
"Logan."  
  
"Sorry. She went on her own. When she saw a unicorn, though, it ran away so she went home. The End."  
  
"You really haven't got the hang of storytelling, have you?" asked Jean with a half-sigh, half-giggle. "It should be a happy ending."  
  
"It was happy. She wouldn't like a Unicorn. She would have to build a stable, get lots of big fields and spend far too much on food," he pointed out. "Besides, it worked didn't it?"  
  
The both looked at the baby. She was fast asleep, sucking on her thumb. Jean smiled, and looked outside. Evening was advancing.  
  
"Shouldn't her mother be back yet?" enquired Jean. "It was quite rude of her to leave her baby with you."  
  
"She didn't leave her with me," he corrected. "She left her on her own, Kurt found her, I looked after her. She'll be back soon."  
  
------o(O)o------  
  
As her daughter drifted off to sleep, Siannagh was in a coffee shop with Remy, who was comforting her as best he could. They had been walking back towards the mansion when suddenly she had burst into loud, very frightening sobs. He had panicked, as most men would, and half dragged her into the first open-looking building he could which, luckily, was a rather posh-looking place called 'Coffee Café'.  
  
After ordering two very refreshing glasses of fruit juice (he was completely skint), they sat down across the table from each other. A waiter walked past and Remy plucked a pack of tissues from his apron, his pick pocketing skills coming in useful there. He passed her one, looking at the waiter oddly when he saw the flower pattern on them.  
  
"Thanks," Siannagh said, drying her tears. Her eyes were puffy and red. "I'm sorry, I'm just a bit emotional."  
  
"Uh, Remy understan's," he nodded, still looking decidedly twitchy. "Do y' wan' anyt'in'?"  
  
"I really should get back to my daughter," she whispered. He nodded. "They probably think I'm an awful mother."  
  
"Remy t'ink y'ave un bon excuse," he laughed. "I don' even know y', an' I understan'."   
  
"I'm sorry to put you to so much trouble, Gambit."  
  
"Call me Remy," he said. He smiled. "I don' min'. I was bored, anyway."  
  
"You never told me why you're here," she said suddenly. "You said you came here for a reason but you didn't elaborate."  
  
"Remy has his reasons."  
  
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry."  
  
"Stop sayin' sorry!"  
  
"Sorr-" she started, then stopped with a laugh. "Perhaps you could come back with us."  
  
"Us?" he asked. "There is more dan one of y'?"  
  
"I am staying with Professor Xavier," she explained. "It's a place for mutants. Like us."  
  
A couple of people on nearby tables looked over at them, faces vaguely moulded in disgust. Remy lowered his face quickly, avoiding eye contact. One waiter who hear began to approach, obviously going to say something, and Siannagh stood up.  
  
"Remy t'ink it's time for us to go," he said, smiling dispite the situation. "I'll take y' back t' where y'are stayin', oui?"  
  
They bolted out of the door. Only problem was, Remy had to bolt back a minute or two later to pick up his trench coat that he had left on the back of his chair.  
  
The street was dark and it took a moment or two for Siannagh's eyes to adjust. Remy realised it was dark enough to remove his glasses in relative safety, and did so. 


	19. Scheisse!

Disclaimer: Not mine. I don't own the Xmen. Thank you to everyone who has   
  
reviewed.  
  
------o(O)o-----  
  
"Salla?" Siannagh called as she entered the mansion through the large front doors.   
  
There was no answer. It had taken her a good half hour to get back wit Remy still   
  
following her and keeping her entertained with some of the most awful, groansome   
  
jokes she had ever heard. "Salla, where are you?"  
  
"Salla?" something said, and she recognised it as her own voice. At first she   
  
dismissed it as an echo, but it was too delayed. She glanced nervously at Remy,   
  
who shrugged. "Where are you? Salla? Salla?"  
  
"Remy t'ink y' learnt t' project y' voice," he laughed. "Who's makin' dat noise?"  
  
"I … I don't know," she admitted, and began to follow the sound. "It's very   
  
strange."  
  
They trailed the noises until they pushed a door open to find Jean and Logan sat   
  
apart from each other in a room.   
  
"So she decided to start a war," the voice said, and both Remy and Siannagh   
  
looked down to see Salla wobbling at their ankles, quoting from Logan's less-than-  
  
orthodox bedtime story. She had slept for an hour or two while Logan watched the   
  
telly, but a particularly loud screech from someone in the mansion she had awoken.   
  
"And spend too much on food."  
  
"How did you do that?" she asked Logan, for she heard it as Logan's voice. Logan   
  
shrugged, still slightly huffy with her for general reasons. "Salla, how do you do   
  
that?"  
  
"Scott is sooo cute," she repeated, with a cheeky giggle in Jean's voice. Jean's face   
  
reddened deeply.   
  
"Seems her power has shown a bit early," he said with a grim smile. "She's a   
  
mimic. Takes after her deep old mother…One of them, at least."  
  
"Any luck?" asked Jean, having annoyed Logan until he had told her the entire   
  
story. "Did you find her? Who is that?"  
  
"Some luck, not necessarily good," she started. "Yes, I found her, and this is   
  
Remy."  
  
Remy had his glasses on, so to all appearances he seemed a completely normal   
  
human. Logan sniffed, a subconscious nervous habit, and silently hoping Kurt   
  
didn't walk in, just in case.  
  
Of course, luck is not something too common in the world of mutants. At the exact   
  
time Logan thought this, the blue mutant bamfed merrily into the room with his   
  
holowatch most definitely not turned on.  
  
Remy gaped at him. Kurt didn't see the stranger at first and crouched beside his   
  
new baby half-sister.   
  
Siannagh noticed the surprised expression on Remy's face, and quickly turned to   
  
Remy. "Oh, Kurt…"  
  
"Scheisse," he muttered, and with a flicker of his watch, the pale faced young boy   
  
appeared where the blue boy had been sat. "Scheisse, Scheisse. Sorry, Professor, I   
  
didn't see him."  
  
"Siannagh," chastised the Professor. His strange eyebrows were twisted low on his   
  
forehead. "I have not told you this before, but for obvious reasons, we must be   
  
warned in advance of visitors."  
  
Remy was still focused on Kurt, who was shifting uncomfortably where he was   
  
squatted. He was frowning almost as much as the Professor; he had never seen a   
  
mutant more, well, mutated than himself.  
  
Siannagh looked flustered, and took a seat so as not to keel over.   
  
"Remy don' know what y' all lookin' so worried for," he said eventually, having   
  
finally taken his shock and buried it deep down. He pushed his glasses down   
  
slightly, revealing less than half of his black and red eyes. "I t'ink y'all frettin'   
  
over silly t'ings. Remy's a mutant too."  
  
"Great, even another mutant is afraid of me," Kurt mutters under his breath. No   
  
one but Remy hears, and the stranger quickly shook his head to let Kurt know he   
  
was not afraid without embarrassing him. Kurt stared, then stood up. "Professor,   
  
I'll be back in a minute," he announced, and with a burst of bluish smoke he   
  
teleported away. For a minute or two, no one spoke and Remy felt as though the   
  
whole room was studying him intensely. Of course, they probably were.  
  
"Remy is sorry if he offended him," he said, feeling instantly guilty. "I just never   
  
seen a mutant like dat."  
  
Again, no one spoke until eventually Siannagh cracked and felt she had to break   
  
the heavy silence before it crushed her. "Everyone, this is Remy, he helped me find   
  
Mystique."  
  
"Remy is pleased t' meet y'," he said with a polite inclination of his head. "I can   
  
go, if y' wan'."  
  
"No, no," the Professor said before anyone else could says anything. "You are   
  
most welcome here. Are you in need of a place to stay?"  
  
Remy looked timorous and embarrassed as they focused their attention on him. He   
  
shrugged, shook his head, then nodded immediately after. "Oui, if dat woul'n' be   
  
too much trouble."  
  
"Never trouble to help a mutant in need," he smiled. He had questions for   
  
Siannagh about her encounter with Mystique, but knew it was best to ask in   
  
private.  
  
------o(O)o-----  
  
The next day, Remy awoke in his room more than a bit bewildered. He was in one   
  
of the few remaining spare rooms, his entire belongings on the desk; five packs of   
  
playing cards, a silver pen, an unmarked envelope, a packet of half crumbled mints   
  
and his trenchcoat. His clothes were hung up in the wardrobe, with a wallet full of   
  
money in the pocket of his jeans that he planned to buy some new clothes with as   
  
soon as possible.   
  
He heard a baby wailing somewhere in the building, and grinned into his pillow as   
  
he remembered everything that happened yesterday. One day he was staying in the   
  
cheapest motel in town, the next he was living in a mansion full of people like him   
  
in a room of his own. Well, that was unexpected.  
  
He wasn't that much of a people person, so when Siannagh poked her head in to   
  
tell him it was time for breakfast, he said he'd get some later. Besides, he didn't   
  
want to see that Kurt person again; he felt extremely guilty for staring, and deep   
  
pity. Suddenly the meagreness of his eye colours seemed insane to be worrying   
  
over. Of course, it wasn't as simple as that. No matter how small the difference   
  
from a person and the rest of the world, it is picked up on. Once, Remy had met a   
  
girl with black hair and white eyelashes; she wasn't a mutant, yet she got beat up   
  
after school almost every day. Eventually, the little girl had killed herself by   
  
jumping in the enormous river that flowed near her house. It was Remy who found   
  
the body and took it back to the parents; it was the most awful thing he had ever   
  
had to do.  
  
Eventually, he dressed and made his excuses before taking his wallet and starting   
  
out for the town. Siannagh suggested going and despite his resolve to go on his   
  
own, he agreed.   
  
"Logan, will you look after Salla?" Siannagh had asked. Logan had scowled, but   
  
nodded. "Thank you, bye!" 


	20. Facepaints

Disclaimer: I don't own Xmen. If I did, I would be very happy. I already am, but I'd be even happier than I am now. Do you know why I am happy? HARRY POTTER! Hehehehe... I won't say any more, I don't need to, after all it was 21st June only a couple of days ago *sighs dreamily*  
  
Can I think of anything else to say...? Nope, can't. Ok, onwards.  
  
This chapter is dedicated to Xiowolfe for commenting so much :D Ty! Lots of Logan and Salla in this one, hehehe.   
  
-----o(O)o----  
  
Logan glowered at the door for a good five minutes after Remy and Siannagh had left. He didn't trust this new mutant. He was shifty; he wore a trenchcoat and had shown neither hide nor hair of any real powers, except of course his eye colour. He seemed to be able to control them and he was fully-grown, so why was Xavier letting him stay here?  
  
Of course, it wasn't his problem, but if that man did anything to hurt anyone, especially Siannagh or Salla, he swore he'd rip his throat out.  
  
Salla, who was gurgling happily on her playmat, distracted his thoughts. He leaned down from his chair and picked her up.  
  
"How about I take you to the park?" he suggested, and she giggled. He took that as a yes and dressed her in a little pink dress; it was a nice sunny day outside and he didn't want her overheating. "Come on then."  
  
He walked there; it was only a few minutes walk to the nearest one. When he arrived, he realised with dismay that it was full of friendly looking women with big dresses or tight jeans, holding their young children over sandpits and pushing them on swings. He groaned, and turned to go back to the mansion, but Salla gurgled in a sinister fashion as he attempted to do so. A sucker to those big puppy dog eyes, he walked to the least crowded part of the park.  
  
He placed Salla on the ground and adjusted the bandana he had placed on her to hide the little horn. The black stripes one her cheeks were still quite obvious, but he figured that if he painted the rest of her face in some way, people would just think it was part of the facepaints.  
  
------o(O)o------  
  
Fifteen minutes later, Logan was sat down with a little paintbrush and novelty sponge, drawing designs on Salla's face. He really, really hoped that no one he knew would pass as he finished the clown design on her little, still gaunt face. Even Logan had to admit it looked meltably adorable.   
  
Now to keep her away from the others. Couldn't have a one-year-old child speaking full sentences in a god-knows-how-many-years-old man's voice.   
  
She sat on the grass, peering up at him with slight bafflement.   
  
"How about I take you to the park?" she mimicked, repeating the same words he said to her before. He couldn't help it; a smile spread slowly over his face. Once again, he glanced around nervously and to his horror he saw a young looking mother with two children in a double buggy approaching him with a smile on her extremely motherly face. He avoided eye contact in desperation.  
  
"Hello," she said in an insanely girly voice as she sat on the floor beside him. He stared, and didn't say anything. The two children, one male one female, promptly attacked Salla with grins and giggles. Logan felt far too overpoweringly protective and had to look away, which either meant staring at the coffee shop across the other end of the park or talking to the woman. He chose the former, to the mother's annoyance. Her voice was a tiny bit sharper when she spoke again. "Is she your daughter?"  
  
"Yes," he said to simplify things. "In a manner of speaking."  
  
The lady looked mildly baffled at this, but said nothing. Instead she turned her attention to the three children, who were whacking each other amiably with twigs. Salla stood up wobbly on her little legs and smacked the youngest one, the boy, full on in the stomach. Logan didn't move, but the boy's mother looked scandalised and grabbed her children away from the violent little girl, who had now flopped back on the ground with a huge grin.  
  
The woman looked as if she was expecting Logan to say something, but he was barely paying attention.   
  
"What?" he growled when she finally grabbed his attention. He looks down at Salla, who is grinning widely. "Well, her mother's a bitch, what do you expect?"  
  
The lady, needless to say, walked away as fast as her legs would carry her.  
  
-------o(O)o-------  
  
Remy had not stopped grinning since he left the mansion. Siannagh, once her bad moods were lifted, was full of giggles. Everything she said made him laugh. They sat beside each other at an old fashioned bar in an old fashioned pub, on old-fashioned stools that rubbed against his back awkwardly.  
  
"...So I said to him," she continued. "I said 'No! Give me back my cheese!'"  
  
Remy stared at her. She had been previously talking about the time her father attacked her in the basement, and this statement was completely unrelated. She chuckled and poked his shoulder. "Don't be so dull," she ordered him, and for the first time Remy noticed her voice was slurring slightly.  
  
He picked up her glass, which he was sure contained orange juice or at least that's what he ordered for her, and took a sip. The sharp taste of vodka invaded his mouth and he pulled a face at the unexpected aroma of it.   
  
"Siannagh!" he chided, smirking slightly. "Y' naughty girl...Dis is vodka!"  
  
"I know," she chuckled. "Isn't it fun?"  
  
"Wha' would dose Xmen say?" he asked, a grin now on his face. "Y' shoul'n' drink any more, y' drunk."  
  
"Bugger off," said she, for Buffy had invaded her screen the night before in the form of a very Spike-based episode. "Bloody. Bugger."  
  
Remy just looked bemused.  
  
"They're English swearwords!" she said in the voice of one talking to a very young child, just more slurred. "Come on, like you never watched Buffy."  
  
"Well, Remy don' t'ink so," he said, still looking mildly confused about the spinning conversation. "I migh' have watched one on dat big spiky haired man..."  
  
"Angel?" she asked. He nodded with the slightest of shrugs. Siannagh laughed so loudly a couple of people turned to face her, and waved an accusing finger at him. "You're stuuupid. Angel is a completely different programme now! Even I knew that, and I've been locked in a basement."  
  
"Say't loud enough?" he asked, glancing nervously around the bar. Only one man was watching them, and he was too far away to hear. "I don' watch dat much TV."  
  
"You should."  
  
"Pr'aps." He sighed, exasperated. "Come on, Remy's getting' y' home, chere."  
  
"D'accord, Remy," she said in a flawless French accent. "C'était amusant. Merci beaucoup, mon ami."  
  
Remy laughed. "Y' speak French."  
  
"Un petit peu," she admitted. "I learnt it in a school a few years ago, not a lot though. I can, however, tell you what's in my pencil case. 'Dans ma trousse il y a un stylo, un bic, un gomme..."  
  
"Dat'll get y' far in life," he laughed and took her arm in his as he began to lead her out of the pub. "Professor Xavier's gonna kill poor Remy," he muttered as the now singing young woman nearly stumbled down a curb. To think, it was only midday. 


	21. Three Years Later

Disclaimer: More to the shame, I don't own Xmen or anything but that twisted lump of cheese I call my imagination.  
  
I was bored, so voila! New character! Well, he's not, he's been around a lot but you know what I mean, new to this story...Should I stop waffling yet? Hehehehe... nah. I'm watching Look Who's Talking Now...So funny. Funfunfun. Do you know what else is fun? Chess.  
  
I am aware that there is a long span between the time the last chapter was set and the time this is set, but I wanted to skip forwards because of a plot. I think it was dragging on a bit beforehand. I am writing a substory for the Remy and Siannagh developing relationship though, as that is fun. If you're wondering why Remy and Siannagh are suddenly all over each other (well, not so suddenly if you read the substory), it's because they are now in a Relationship with a capital RRR.  
  
Imagine Remy is talking Cajun, I'll adjust it to fit his accent later, and I'm too tired now.  
  
------o(O)o-------  
  
Remy looked on with an amused smile as Siannagh span wildly in a dramatic swirl with a complete strange on the street. Three years had passed since they had met; yet she had still not lost her eccentric style or her unpredictable temper. She was currently engaged in a waltz with a younger looking boy with albino hair and strange, suspicious eyes that were widely spread in apprehension. As she let go to launch herself back to Remy, the boy made his incredibly swift escape.  
  
"Oh Remy, this is fun," she laughed, draping his arms over his shoulders and planting a little peck on his lips. He smiled widely at her and twirled her around. She pulled away from him and clenched her hand around his, then proceeded to drag him across the street to a little shop full of children's clothes. "Shall we buy Salla a new outfit?"  
  
"Does she need one?" he said in his gorgeous Cajun accent. "Your daughter is spoilt rotten."  
  
"It's nearly her fourth birthday," she explained, pulling her usual puppy-dog face at him. "Please?"  
  
Remy sighed, resigned to be under this girl's power for as long as she held him there. "Fine. Let's go."  
  
She grinned widely enough to fit a CD in her mouth and flounced energetically into the oh-so-cute-and-cuddly shop. Remy stood with his hands in his pockets as near to the door as possible with his head bowed and his cheeks decidedly red; however many times Siannagh dragged him into various increasingly embarrassing shops, he never adjusted to it. He glanced around, seeing one or two other men watching their wives pluck numerous clothes from the shelves, each one of them in exactly the same shrinking position. He happened to see the same boy Siannagh had previously danced with hovering by the window, his attention obviously on the excited young woman who was attacking the brightest clothes there, but as soon as he caught eye contact with Remy he was gone. Remy frowned, suddenly protective, and wandered over to Siannagh.  
  
"You ok, chere?" he asked in an undertone. She nodded and held up an overpoweringly cute pair of green dungarees with a little yellow duck quoting 'quack' on the pocket. She seemed to be waiting for him to pass his judgement, so he nodded. "It's nice. I like green."  
  
"I should get a top to go under it," she decided, and picked up a plain t-shirt that seemed to be exactly the same shade as the duck. "There. That'll do."  
  
"I think we should get back," he said. A smirk had risen on his face. "Logan's six hour babysitting deadline is fast approaching."  
  
"Fine," she suspired. "If you say so... Still think that's a stupid rule."  
  
"She is your baby."  
  
"Yeah, well, her other mother doesn't look after her, does she?"  
  
Remy had the decency to look embarrassed as she said this. They hadn't heard from Mystique for nearly two years and she was rarely brought up in pleasant conversation; Salla presumed Remy was her father.  
  
They paid, and left, the mood ruined.  
  
------o(O)o------  
  
"Took your time," growled Logan as Siannagh pranced through the front door with Remy trailing behind her. Kurt could be seen over Logan's shoulder, being ambushed by Salla as he passed the stairs; she grabbed his tail and yanked it so hard he fell over flat on his back. "Salla!"  
  
"Took your time," she replied, mimicking Logan's voice. She chuckled, and stood up, her face now full and round from three years of proper eating. "Hello Mummy!"  
  
"Hey Salla," she replied, squatting down on the floor to hug her hyperactive and mildly violent daughter as she charged across the hallway. "Have a nice day?"  
  
"Yeah! Kitty made me a cake with a little frog on the front and then she took me to the park but Logan made me come home so I watched a movie about a dog what could speak, it was really funny, then Jean helped me have a bath and we ended up splashing each other and having a water fight, it was funny, but she had to go get changed because she was *soaking* so then Logan read to me and now you're home," she said in one continuous breath. "So hi!"  
  
"Should a three year old talk like that?" Remy whispered, and Siannagh laughed.  
  
"She's a mimic, and after all children learn to talk by mimicking their parents don't they?"   
  
Remy shrugged, being almost completely ignorant to little details such as this. Logan raised an eyebrow and made to leave.  
  
"I'm off," he announced. "I'm busy tomorrow, don't even consider thinking about the possibility of going out unless you can find some other poor sucker to do your parenting."  
  
------o(O)o------  
  
"I don't think Logan's too pleased with you," Kurt announced later as he sat down with the couple at dinner. He had Salla on his lap, and was spoon-feeding her soup despite the fact the child was quite able to feed herself. "He's been storming around the place all day, that's why we've been looking after her."  
  
"You spoil your sister, Kurt," said Siannagh. "She's quite capable of looking after herself for a while, aren't you honey?"  
  
Salla just pulled a face as though she had eaten a slice of lemon and took another mouthful of liquid tomato goodness.   
  
"He did offer to look after her," said Remy. "If he doesn't want to, he could just say."  
  
"You're abusing that fact," the blue furry young man replied. Salla pulled one of his pointed ears and he yelped, brushing her hand away. "It's not like you pay him or anything."  
  
"Fine, we'll take her with us tomorrow," Siannagh said. "Of course, if we meet Mystique in the street and she tries to take her, I'm blaming you."  
  
"Don't kill the messanger," Kurt laughed, raising his hands as if in innocence. "Where'll you take her?"  
  
"To the shops of course." 


	22. Stalked

Disclaimer: Not mine, don't make money, etc.  
  
I know it's been a while. Just got caught up in my other stories, but here you are, lovely new chapter. There won't be many more of this story. As it was early, Remy's accent is extremely mild atm because I can't be arsed. Sorry.  
  
-----o(O)o-----  
  
"This one?"  
  
"No."  
  
"This one?"  
  
"Definitely not!"  
  
"This one?"  
  
"We can' afford a bike," Remy moaned as Siannagh dragged Salla down the aisle, pointing randomly at kiddies bikes, mostly with pink tassels coming off the handle bars. "Chere, c'mon, it's not as if she can ride it yet."  
  
Of course, to prove him wrong, Salla clambered onto a little bright red bike and scooted it down the aisle with a grin. "I wan't this one."  
  
"So like her ma," laughed Remy. "She picks de most expensive one."  
  
"The girl has style," Siannagh grinned, spinning her long simplified skirt, revealing be-sandled feet below the folds of pale green material. "Let's get her this one. Please, honey?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Pleeaassee," she grinned, mock-pouting with a flutter of her eyelashes. "Come on. Look at her face. You have to let her have it, otherwise she'll be heatbroken."  
  
"Not my problem," Remy said, but he was weakened. When Salla joined with the pout, he sighed exasperatedly and shrugged. "Fine. But if she falls off, it's not de fault of Remy, oui?"  
  
"Yeah. Thanks!"  
  
-------o(O)o-------  
  
"Merrily we roll along, roll along," sang Salla loudly in the voice of a presenter of the telly. Luckily, the presenter is a female one, or strange looks would have occurred. "Mama, I'm hungry."  
  
"Me to sugar, but let's wait 'til we're home."  
  
Salla continued pushing her way along the bumpy pavement in the gorgeous new bike paid for with Remy's credit card. Loosely speaking. It wasn't actually his, it was the security guard's, but the poor cashier wasn't to know that. Siannagh hadn't seen him take it luckily, or she would have flipped; she hated the fact that her long term partner was a complete kleptomaniac and a skilled one at that.  
  
He certainly wouldn't risk anything to lose his Siannagh. He smiled warmly in happiness as he felt her hand grip onto his and planted a swift kiss on her flawless cheek.  
  
"Mama and Daddy sitting in a tree, doing things they shouldn't be," sang Salla as she slowed her bike momentarily to pull a face at them. "First comes looove, then comes marriiiiage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage!"  
  
"Tree, hey?" whispered Remy. "Sounds interesting."  
  
"Drag your mind out the gutter and hurry up," giggled Siannagh. "I want to get home before Kurt eats my food again."  
  
Remy grinned and looked around, surveying the area subconsciously in protectiveness. He saw someone he recognised with a frown, a young white-haired boy with an angry pout on his face. It would have been fine if the boy had just been walking, but instead he was staring at the couple holding hands and glaring at Salla in front of them. He wasn't too far away, close enough to hear their voices at least; but not so close that Siannagh or Salla noticed him, to Remy's relief.  
  
Siannagh did, however, notice the increased speed of Remy's feet as he hurried out of the area. "Something wrong dear?" she asked.  
  
"Non, Remy's good," he smiles reassuringly. "I'm jus' hungry. Like y' two."  
  
"Fair enough."  
  
He saw the same boy three more times on the way home; each time, the pale young man disappeared in the blink of an eyelid.  
  
--------o(O)o--------  
  
"I t'ink someone's following' us," Remy whispered to Siannagh once they were in the safety of the mansion. Siannagh looked alarmed as he elaborated. "Dere's a boy I kept seeing - remember dat time you danced wit' de stranger? The blonde one?"   
  
"Yes…" she replied, glancing around as if expecting someone to jump out of their bedroom cupboard. Salla rushed into the room, grabbed a toy or two and sprinted back out with an enormous grin on her face.  
  
The room the two were sat in was, in the literal sense of the word, a mess. There were clothes all over the floor and rubbish around the bin that they had neglected to bother to pick up once it had fallen out of the bin, books everywhere around the bedside table and numerous teddies and toys belonging to Salla scattered around the place. Salla's room was next door, yet that had become so full of junk that it had spread like an infection to the rooms around it.  
  
"We'll have t' be careful," said Remy. "If y' got y'self a stalker, it coul' be dangerous."  
  
"Oooh, a stalker," smirks Siannagh. "See how beautiful I am? I get a stalker! That's it, I should be a model, no one can resist my beauty and charm!"  
  
"Remy can confirm dat," he grins and settles his arms around her. She leans on his shoulder.  
  
"I'm tired," she yawns. "All this being stalked takes it out of you."  
  
"You might not be," he reminds her. "He could be stalkin' Remy, or Salla."  
  
"Cradle snatcher."  
  
"What?"  
  
"If he's stalking Salla, he's a cradle snatcher," she says, raising her head to look at him with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Come on, I can think of better things to talk about than this."  
  
"What would they be?"  
  
A small smile raised on her lips, and his eyes widened slightly.  
  
"Ah." 


	23. Abduction

Disclaimer: I am a frog.  
  
Note: It gets a bit gruesome soon, perhaps this chapter or the next, with the … well, you'll see. Anyway. I'm not writing accents today.  
  
-------o(O)o-------  
  
Pietro was in the worst mood possible, which was saying something. His brows were constantly furrowed and his mouth was creased in a unvarying pout. His mind had not registered anything but the girl on the street, the one who had danced with him for no reason and without music. The beautiful girl with her shining, fiery hair and sparkling eyes and the nose dusted with freckles. She seemed to be older than him, but not too much, dispite her child he had seen in the park. Anyway, he could be jumping to conclusions - perhaps it wasn't her child. Perhaps she was babysitting for her older sister, or something.  
  
The man with her, the one with the Scott-wannabe glasses and the long coat, he was obviously attached to her. The way they were around each other, he could guess at their relationship which made him bitter and angry at fate. He wanted her for himself, he knew that much. A jealous, possessive streak had begun to run through his veins and he had no intention of stopping it.  
  
In his mind, he already thought of her as his. He planned out their long and happy life together, starting with a dashing seduction, followed by a beautiful white wedding in a church somewhere, many healthy children and a little cottage with a garden full of plants. He had no idea where these decisions had come from, all he knew was that should he have her, they would be eternally joyous.  
  
Now the problem was getting her.  
  
------o(O)o------  
  
"You really shouldn't wear that in this weather," commented Remy, surveying the window. It was quite obviously pouring with heavy rain. "You'll die of cold."  
  
Siannagh spun around in the mirror with a shake of her head. She wore thin translucent tights with rainbow stripes that disappeared under her just-above-knee-length denim skirt. Her t-shirt, the same blue as the hair band that held her wild hair out of her face, had a large peace sign in red. Her arms were bare except for seven bangles on one arm; one for each colour of the rainbow. The first thing someone would think upon seeing her would be 'eccentric', which of course puts her into a nicely fitting category.  
  
"We going?" she asked, tying the laces of her black Dr Marten shoes. He nodded; she grinned. "I've been looking forward to this for, well, hours!"  
  
"We only decided we were going to the park ten minutes ago."  
  
"I was excited from the suspense of surprise, then."  
  
He rolled his eyes as she took a hold of his hand. He glanced down and saw her nails were finally growing longer (she had the bad habit of biting them) and were painted in glittery silver polish. They thanked Kurt quickly for agreeing to look after Salla for a couple of hours and left.  
  
------o(O)o------  
  
At the same time, almost to the minute, Pietro left his own abode for some fresh air. A little voice suggested the park, as that was the home of the freshest air in the immediate area, and he agreed with it for the small possibility of seeing that strange girl again. He huddled into a coat to protect himself from the pouring rain and made his way there.  
  
------o(O)o------  
  
"Oh, but it's empty!" cried Siannagh upon reaching the park. She flopped into a little puddle on the bench, not caring in the slightest about the damp, and sighed. "I wanted there to be people. People are good."  
  
"Yeah, good, right," he laughed. "People are also not stupid. It's chucking it down. This weather's only good for ducks."  
  
"And mutants who can control water," she smirked. Immediately, she was dry, as was the bench around her. The water that had been on her formed a little lake in the grass nearby. "There. Better."  
  
The rain now seemed to completely ignore the patch of world around Siannagh and the bench, and Remy quickly realised that if he wanted to stay dry the best thing to do would be to sit down on the aforementioned bench. He did, and she snuggled up to him with her head on his shoulder and her arms around his chest. He smiled, and rested his own head upon hers.  
  
Pietro took that moment to walk into the park. He was soaking, but through the downpour he could see the girl who had been invading his sanity seated in an embrace clearly full of love with the man he had seen her with before. There was no child. A feirce anger shuddered through his body, so overwhelming that he had to struggle to keep on his feet. He watched as the couple claimed a kiss, a kiss that to him felt like a stab wound in his stomach. His vision clouded further than before from not just the rain, but angry, salty tears that he wiped away immediately. He pushed down the fury as best he could but another kiss was just too much for him; in an instant, he was beside them.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?" demanded Remy, standing up instantly. Siannagh watched with almost disinterest. "Get away from us!"  
  
For a second or two, Pietro just glared at him, then quicker than a blink of an eye he had Siannagh in his arms. She yelped, and struggled, but his grip was firm. Remy lunged forwards to claim her back but in vain; his eyes only registered one movement, and that was of a white haired boy carrying a gob smacked and terrified girl out of the park in the opposite direction to which Remy arrived.  
  
A cold, icy dread flooded over him as he was left standing alone, the rain finally returning to his area.  
  
"Merde," he muttered, deciding that rather than following the boy who was already far out of sight, he would return to the mansion for help. 


	24. Insane

Disclaimer: Contrary to the last disclaimer, I am no longer a frog. I am a gorf, a frog that skaorc instead of croaks.  
  
Hm, had to up the rating a bit here. Sorry.   
  
------o(O)o------  
  
"Let me go," hissed Siannagh. She struggled, but it was no use; this strange boy had tied her with extremely strong bonds to the hard wooden chair and was in the process of sneering at her. She cringed in fear and tried again to free herself.  
  
"Stop struggling," he said; the first words he had spoken directly to her. Before then he had muttered malevolently, too fast for her to understand. Siannagh froze as he approached, pushing herself bag against the chair uselessly. He knelt down in front of her and Siannagh wished with all her might that her legs were free so she could kick him hard in the face. He stared at her for a while without speaking, and when he did speak, his voice was cold and unhappy. "You shouldn't have done that."  
  
"Done what?" she asked, controlling the shiver in her voice and body that would give away her terror. "I haven't done anything."  
  
"Kissed him."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"That man you were with in the park!" he yelled, his eyes narrow. "You're mine and you shouldn't have betrayed me!"  
  
"I'm not yours, I don't even know you," she said incredulously, her voice full of disgust. "I recognise you, but I don't know where from."  
  
"Do I mean that little to you that you forget me?" he said. "You danced with me."  
  
"I dance with a lot of people, that doesn't make me theirs."   
  
"Shut up!"  
  
He stood himself up and stumbled back. He was gone before Siannagh could see him move and he was back in the same amount of time. Her eyes blurred in shock and she felt nauseous as she saw the glint of sharp metal in his hand. He brandished the knife in her face with a twisted leer.  
  
"Don't hurt me," she whimpered, pulling her head back as far away from him as possible. "I didn't mean to do this to you. I'm sorry."  
  
"You've hurt me far more than a knife ever could!" he screamed, his voice ripping through her ears. "You evil scum. You dance with me, you stay in my mind unmoving, filling my head with this, then you say you didn't mean to!"  
  
"You're insane," she whispered, half hoping he wouldn't hear her but unable to control her voice. "You're twisted, and you have the nerve to call me scum. You're the one who has kidnapped a woman from her date with her partner, bringing me to this dump of a house and tying me up, how can you say I'm evil? You've cracked! You're mental!"  
  
"Don't call me that!"  
  
"Why not? It's the truth! Untie me, I have a child, you can't keep me tied up here forever!" she demanded, her face flushing in anger. Pietro stared unblinkingly at her for a long while while her breath came in short, fury-filled gasps and her eyes were filled with hatred. "Let. Me. Go."  
  
"I can't," he said, his voice now quieter as he attempted to calm himself. The knife was still precariously close to her chest. "You have a child? That brat was yours?"  
  
"Salla is not a brat," she spat, scowling deeply. "Let me go."  
  
"No," he said. "We can be happy. You can stay here until we've got enough money to buy a new house, then we'll have our own children and a dog."  
  
Her eyebrow arched. "I'm already in love, you can't force people to like you and live with you."  
  
"We're going to be *happy*," he stressed, glaring at her. "Whether you like it or not."  
  
"You can't keep me here forever!" she shouted. "Remy will find me, he'll tell the Professor and he'll find me with that mind thingy. You'll be in so much trouble."  
  
"I- I won't," he said, his voice turning nervous as the true impact of what he had just done rose into his mind. "They'll understand that you're happy with me and not them."  
  
"I'm not happy with you."  
  
"You will be," he hissed. "Just wait."  
  
-----o(O)o-----  
  
Remy fell through the door of the mansion with no breath left, his knees weak from the speed at which he had run back. Logan was in the process of walking though the hall and the poor man practically dropped with a heart attack at the sudden noise in such a quiet time of the day.  
  
"Remy?" he said with a frown. "Why - What are you doing?"  
  
"Where's - the Professor?" he gasped, steadying himself before attempting to walk again. "Siannagh. She's gone. He took her."  
  
"Who took her?"  
  
"The really fast boy with the white hair."  
  
"*Pietro*?" Logan said, disbelieving. "Why did he take her? Where?"  
  
"I don't know, hurry, where's the Professor?"  
  
"Charles is in his study. I'm coming with you." 


	25. Too Late To Help

Disclaimer: I don't own the Xmen, and if I did I would make them all live in my attic.  
  
Oh, and UberNekoChan, thank you for the chocolates *grin* I like chocolates. I also like making completely sane characters lose their marbles.  
  
Still no accents because I'm lazy, y'see.  
  
I'm mean. This is a mean chapter. Don't read if you're happy, it'll make you sad, lol.  
  
------o(O)o------  
  
It took Professor Xavier only minutes to place her location, as she was mentally screaming for help as loud as she possibly could. Logan, dispite Remy's protestations, had decided to assist them in any means possible.  
  
"Now Logan, we will not harm Pietro," said Charles, narrowing his eyes slightly. "There will be no need for violence."  
  
"There's always need for violence in these situations," snarled Logan. In the past three years he had become close to the little girl Salla and didn't want to see her mother harmed, however irresponsible and flighty she was. "Where's Salla?"  
  
"Kurt has taken her out for the day with his friends."  
  
"Can we contact him?"  
  
"I can."  
  
"Then do."  
  
Xavier raised an eyebrow, then complied. There was a moment of silence as the Professor concentrated, locating Kurt's mind, then a flicker of recognition as he communicated telepathically with the boy. When he opened his eyes, there was a moment of silence which was suddenly dispersed with a loud sound in the corner. All three turned to look as Kurt with his holowatch appeared with a puff of smoke. Salla was in his arms, looking bemused with an ice cream in her hand and all round her face.  
  
"It is urgent, Professor?" he asked.  
  
As soon as Professor Xavier had explained the situation, his whole posture changed. His shoulders drew up angrily and his face set in resolve. "We shall get her."  
  
"It is not as simple as that."  
  
"Why not?" demanded Remy. "This is Siannagh we're discussing. I think that makes it simple. We get her back before he does anything to her."  
  
The look on his face made it clear that there would be no questioning this. He looked so fierce, even Logan was impressed. After only a couple of seconds organising, they made their way to the X-van.  
  
The rain had stopped a few minutes before, or rather had slowed to an almost-stop. There were still a few lazy drops here and there and the floor was soaking wet but at least it was possible to walk without drowning.  
  
The air smelt damp, a smell Remy detested. He enjoyed the rain on occasions, but hated the stench it left behind. He couldn't understand how people could find it refreshing. It made him think of mould and cucumbers.  
  
As he pondered this he realised with a sinking feeling that he was attempting to blot out the nasty thoughts swimming in his mind, telling him he would be too late to help Siannagh or that it was all his fault. He quickly tried to return to previous distractions, but to no avail. As they waited for the van to pass through the gate, he shut his eyes and buried his head in his hands.  
  
------o(O)o------  
  
Pietro's mind raced. This isn't hard compared to normal brains, but with his increased speed the thoughts were flickering so fast ever he had trouble registering them. He knew he was angry, though. That was undoubtedly true. As the bitch Siannagh glared at him through tear-drenched eyes, his stomach clenched repeatedly and he began to feel sickened. He had no idea what to do, but if he let her go she would harm him or get one of the stronger males from the Xavier's Institute to do it for her. He was stuck in a corner like a frightened hare.  
  
"You know, if you're going to just sit there, it's really not worth having me here," Siannagh growled. "Let me go. Let me look after my child."  
  
"You're child is in a mansion full of very protective idiots," he replied unkindly. "I'm sure she's fine. Shut your mouth."  
  
"No. You can't gag me, that doesn't work remember?"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because you come anywhere near my mouth and I'll bite your hand off," she threatened. "Why have you got me here?"  
  
"We will be happy."  
  
"We could never be happy, and there is no 'we'. I'm me, you're you, we're on different sides," she attempted to reason with him. "Come on. Let me go already."  
  
"Are you in pain?" he asked, a sinister twang to his voice. She scowled and shook her head. Pietro's eyes sparkled darkly. "I am. My heart feels like it has been ripped out of it's place and chucked on the ground. My stomach feels like a thousand needles are piercing it. Do you know what that feels like?"  
  
Again, she shook her head, but slower this time in fear as Pietro had approached her and was now only inches away. She shut her eyes to avoid the terrible eye contact. They stayed like this for many seconds, until a sudden motion and swift pain caused Siannagh to scream. Cold metal slid into her stomach, piercing the skin - it did not go deep, not deep enough to truly harm her straight away at least, but blood began a steady stream out of the injury. She tugged at her arms, trying to free them so she could grip at the wound as he pulled the knife back out. When she looked at him, her pupils were dilated.  
  
"Let me go," she whispered, her breath coming in slow laboured bursts. He just laughed, tilted her head back, and slit her throat with one swift, fast motion before she could even register it. She was dead in an instant, the last life almost visibly leaving her body.  
  
-----o(O)o-----  
  
Pietro, of course, fled the scene of the murder leaving Siannagh with the bloody knife on her lifeless lap in the same position he had killed her. They didn't see him, but on the way out of town the speeding mutant passed Remy, Logan and Professor Xavier in their van headed in exactly the wrong position. He noticed Kurt in the back with Salla in his arms, the little girl, and terror racked through his body. He ran that little bit faster after that, desperate to be as far away from them as possible when they found the body.  
  
Remy's stomach was rolling in dread. He wondered what that little bastard had done to his Siannagh, but was terrified to find out. He hoped against all the odds that she had been able to escape before he could lay his hands on her, escape to freedom so that when they returned to the mansion she would greet them with a smile on her sweet face. When Remy turned to look at the Professor who was concentrating on her mind, though, he found his hopes were soon to be dashed. A grimace passed the old man's face and his eyes opened.  
  
"She is in pain," he said at exactly the moment when the knife pierced her stomach. No one spoke as Logan drove faster, completely ignoring traffic with some well practised skill. Xavier didn't dare search her mind again, for the pain in her body had overwhelmed her mind. They all dreaded to find what awaited them.  
  
It didn't take long for them to reach the house where Pietro stayed. Remy was out of the car in a flash, fast enough so that no one would stop him although Logan did try. Kurt stayed in the car, hugging Salla tightly because the poor girl sensed the atmosphere and was extremely distressed. Xavier stayed where he was to try and help comfort the little girl, while Logan followed Remy.  
  
What they saw caused a shock so deep, so terrible, that Remy had to lean against the doorframe. 


	26. The End

Disclaimer: I am a chicken. David Boreanaz beware.  
  
Soo… I'm going to try and make this the last chapter for this story. Don't worry, though, Salla will have her own story soon, I can't just leave a character like her, Hehehe. She's Übercool as a young woman.   
  
Reviews svp!  
  
…Still no accents, sorry, lol.  
  
-------o(O)o------  
  
Mystique had been upstairs in the house, and although she had heard the racket Pietro was making and the screams of a girl, she decided not to venture down until she was sure the white haired psychopath had left. When she heard the slam of a door, she rushed downstairs to see what had happened.  
  
The sight made even her hard heart clench in disgust. The girl who mothered her child tied to a chair, slumped backwards, with a puddle of blood around her. The blue-skinned woman stepped over to her and pulled her head back to examine her; it was clear she was dead even from the distance, but she wanted to know how. A gash on her throat told her all she needed to know.  
  
She sighed, angry with Pietro for getting himself into so much trouble. The rest of the house was empty - Mystique wasn't sure that the speed demon even knew she was staying there. He had been in a little insular world of his own recently, and now she knew why. Her mind raced as she tried to decide what to do, then with a sickened feeling in her stomach she realised someone was outside, on their way in, and she made a swift decision. With movements that told of her flustered situation - unusual for such a cold, calm woman - she untied the body with her shaking hands and carried it to the cupboard under the stairs and left it there, making sure it was locked. She moved the chair into the kitchen and chucked a rug over the bloodstains on the carpet, then raced to the door, changing her form as she did so. Mystique had made up her mind. She didn't want her daughter growing up on the wrong side.  
  
They had been steadying themselves to see something terrifying, a bloodied body in the middle of the room for example, yet the relief overwhelmed Remy when he saw the beautiful, smiling form of Siannagh standing as if waiting for them, her hands tucked behind her back. Logan, in his surprise, forgot to check it was really her. Mystique, of course, had been counting on that.  
  
Without a word, she hugged Remy. She had seen Siannagh with this man and knew she had loved him so this, she decided, would probably help her stayed disguised for a while at least. Hopefully it would be long enough.  
  
"You alright, chere?" Remy asked, surveying her as she stepped away from the hug. "You're not hurt?"  
  
"He bruised me, but I'm alright," she said, putting an effectively scared quiver in her voice. "Can we go home?"  
  
"Where is he?" growled Logan, pushing past her to look inside. Mystique's body tensed - the smell of blood was obvious, even to a normal nose without enhanced senses. Luckily, Logan was still immensely angry and didn't pick up on it as she grabbed his wrist to halt him.  
  
"He's gone," she said quickly, pulling him back outside gently. "He ran away when he heard you. Please. Let's go. Have you got Salla?"  
  
"She's in the van," nodded Remy, slipping a hand into her's reassuringly. Mystique felt awkward, but being such a good actress she managed to hide it as he lead her to the van. "There, chere. She's a bit rattled."  
  
"Oh, Salla! Come and see your mother," she said, forgetting herself momentarily. Xavier glanced across, his eyes wide, and Mystique heard the ominous sound of claws being bared behind her. She shut her eyes and swore, then grabbed Salla in a fluid motion. Her true form appeared, which caused a giggle from the three-year-old. Mystique scowled, and held Salla to her chest. "You can't hurt me while I'm holding my daughter."  
  
"I can try," snarled Wolverine. Kurt was crouched, ready to leap at her, but they were too slow. Logan hesitated, then leant forwards swiftly to gash her bared stomach. She was ready. With reflexes that would shame Pietro, she did a dodging leap and ran, swiftly and easily despite her crazily high shoes she had taken a liking to. Midrun, her shape changed to that of a young random mother so people couldn't see a blue woman running down the street. Logan followed her as fast as he could, but the others had the horrible sinking feeling it was pointless to do so. The revved up the engine, however, and followed after them as soon as Remy had re-entered the vehicle and sat himself at the driving seat.  
  
There was a crowd of police around a police car nearby, and Mystique grasped the opportunity. She rushed over to them, out of breath, and held her daughter even closer to her in a strangled embrace. Salla, surprisingly, didn't appear in the slightest bit phased by all this and hadn't uttered a sound. A tall, bulky policeman placed a hand on her shoulder and the normally-blue woman forced out some salty fake tears.  
  
"They're after me," she gasped, exaggerating her breathlessness to her advantage. Logan wasn't far behind, an his claws were retracted. She leant on the poor policeman, who called the others over to help her.  
  
"Mystique, you bitch, give her back to me," Logan growled. "She's ours. You can't take her."  
  
"She's my daughter, I can do what I want with her!" she cried.   
  
"Is this the father of the child?" the confuddled policeman asked.  
  
"Gods no, that would be terrible," Mystique said. "He has been chasing me, saying that Salla - my baby - is his. She's not his."  
  
"Who is the father?"  
  
"Her father is dead, so I know that she is not his," she claimed. "Please. Help me. Make them stay away."  
  
With a smirk, she watched as the crowd of law keepers huddled around Logan, and while he was distracted, she ran. With the spare change she kept with her, she boarded a bus with no idea where it was headed. It didn't matter. She had her child, someone to care for at last who wouldn't reject her. She had the plans in her head. Salla would grow up happy and healthy, hidden of course as her visible mutation would cause her trouble, but at least she would have someone to show her the way.  
  
Someone to love her, now her other mother was dead.  
  
-------o(O)o--------  
  
And that, as they say, is the end. 


End file.
